Fëangren
by lindir's gaze
Summary: "Did Lord Elrond expect her to...sacrifice something to save Middle Earth? No. She would not sacrifice herself for the faceless masses that had done nothing for her, even if it meant watching them burn. And when she searched her memories for a specific person worth saving, all that came to mind was a tombstone."
1. In Quest of A Kingdom

_"Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared with love in dreams. Love in dreams is greedy for immediate action, rapidly performed and in sight of all." —Fyodor Dostoevsky; The Brothers Karamazov_

**Prologue**

The docks were busy. Men bustled around, tossing nets into barges and slipping coins into pockets with wary glances.

One man in particular stood at the edge of the docks, looking down into the water. He swayed forward a little, as though contemplating jumping in, then pulled back.

Another man sidled up to the first, his dark, slick hair and glinting eyes contrasting with the other's full red beard and downcast blue eyes.

"For a minute I thought you weren't going to show up," the second man said, his voice rolling out in a drawl. He bumped the taller man with his elbow and tilted his head at the rattle the motion elicited. "Stones, hm? Nice touch."

The taller man leaned away, the stones in his pockets rattling again. "Give me your word that you'll lift the spell."

The dark-haired man only grinned.

"Your _word_."

The other's grin only widened. "You have my _woooord_, then." He stepped back, giving the bearded man a light shove. "Well, get on with it."

The taller of the two swallowed, hard, as one boot scraped against the edge of the dock. His jaw clenched and he leaned forward—

"Da!"

Both men spun around at the shrill cry, as did most of the workers around them. A little girl, no older than six or seven, stood at the other end of the docks, her eyes wide.

This sight seemed to strengthen the resolve of the first man. His shoulders lowered, stiffened, and he spoke in a low voice.

"I'm sorry."

His boots scraped again and the girl screamed as he stepped into the water.

Several men ran to the edge, staring into the rippling water with pale faces. No one noticed the dark, slick-haired man slip back into the shadows as as light snow began to fall, the screams of the child echoing across the water.

**Chapter 1: In Quest of a Kingdom**

**20 years later**

Holly Curuwen rapped on the top of the counter, getting the inkeeper's attention.

He turned to her, a friendly smile lifting his mustache. "Well, hello there, little lady. How can I help you?"

She ignored his attempts at a polite greeting. "I'm looking for a mage. He passed through here a couple of days ago. Blond hair, about six feet tall, scar on the right side of his face."

The man paled. "W-What do you be wanting with a mage?" No doubt he was uncomfortable with acknowledging any 'strange folk' visiting his inn. But she didn't expect anything less from a man with a below-average intelligence living on the borders of the Shire. The inkeeper glanced around the bar, searching the faces of the patrons. "Where are your parents?"

"I'm not a child." Holly sighed and shifted, trying to hide the fact that she was standing on her tip-toes. People always made that assumption given her less-than-average height, which brought her no end of irritation.

"Are you a dwarf, then?" the inkeeper asked, trying to change the subject.

"No." She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice. She had to be polite if she wanted him to cooperate. "My apologies. You see, I was asking around for my friend, and I was told that he was headed for the nicest tavern in Bree, but…" She sent a pointed glance toward the door. "I suppose I could have been mistaken. Good day."

"Now, just wait a second!" The innkeeper leaned over the counter, mustache bristling. Holly wasn't aware that mustaches could do such a thing, but there it was.

"Really, it's all right," she said with what she hoped was a polite smile. "I'll try the inn down the street."

"There'll be no need for that." The innkeeper leaned back and rustled around for something under the counter. He slapped a book down onto the wood and opened it. "Alden Blackthorn, is it? That's who you want?"

Holly couldn't help it. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"He died a couple of days ago. Found in his bed with his throat slit." The man gave her a stern look. "Nasty business. Don't you get mixed up in that sort of thing."

As if he had any authority over the matter. Holly hissed out a curse and turned away from the counter. She'd gotten a bit too 'mixed up' in the matter already to back out.

Alden Blackthorn was a necromancer, and though she'd never met him in person, she'd been hoping he could give her some advice. Necromancers were supposed experts on dark magic, after all. But someone had already gotten to him. There was always the chance that he had faked his death, but that would mean he didn't want to be found, and she would have little chance of tracking him from now on.

"Indeed. It would not be wise to meddle with forces you do not understand."

Holly turned at the sound of a new voice. The innkeeper had moved on to help a customer, leaving her alone at the counter with an old man. Her eyes flicked over his worn gray robe and unkempt beard. There were only two kinds of people who tended to dress like that—wizard and homeless men, and she doubted a homeless man would take to wearing such a ridiculous hat. Wizard, then.

Perhaps he could be of some use.

…...

They had taken a seat in a quiet area of the tavern. Holly drummed her fingers on the table, meeting the wizard's gaze with a cool stare.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Mr. Butterbur. You are looking for a mage, yes?" His expression became stern. "And a necromancer, at that. That is certainly not the sort of company one such as yourself should be involved with."

"'One such as myself'?" Holly raised an eyebrow. "You know nothing about me."

The wizard leaned forward, holding her gaze. "I know that you are clever, judging by your conversation with the innkeeper. And I believe I may have another use for your skills. Something that may eventually provide what you are seeking."

"I'm listening."

"There is going to be a meeting next week in the hobbit hole known as Bag End. I believe it would be rather beneficial for you to attend."

"In the Shire?" Interesting.

"Indeed. We will be discussing an undertaking of great importance. I believe you may be of use to our cause."

"Hm," she said, trying to sound disinterested. "And where is this Bag End?"

"You will find it behind the green door at the top of the hill. I will leave a mark on the door. You won't miss it. Good day." The wizard stood up and left the tavern.

Holly watched him go. A meeting of 'great importance' in the Shire. The words 'importance' and 'Shire' didn't belong in the same sentence, as far as she was concerned. And that fact, along with the involvement of a wizard, was enough to intrigue her.

Her business with dark magic could wait. She'd been hitting dead ends for weeks anyway. Perhaps a distraction was just what she needed.

…..

Bag End was easy enough to find. A glowing rune had been etched onto a round door painted the color of basil. Holly placed a hand on the polished doorknob, the light of the moon mingling with the brassy metal.

As the door opened, the sounds of merriment flooded into the quiet Shire air. Holly inched into the house. A pile of weapons lay in a heap next to the door. A closer look informed her that they were of dwarvish make. What kind of meeting was this?

Quite a lot of noise was coming from farther in, leading her to believe that this was where the food was. A loud thumping noise sounded, followed by peals of drunken laughter.

_If nothing else…this will be interesting._

She hadn't even made it into the dining room before a tomato flew threw the air, missing her head by mere inches. A group of dwarves sat around the dining room table, involved in what appeared to be an amalgam of a feast and a food fight. She turned around, ready to walk back out, but—

"Hello there, lass!"

She spun back around. One of the dwarves grinned rather drunkenly at her, adjusting a ridiculous-looking hat. The rest had turned to look at her as well.

"You must be Mrs. Baggins!"

_As if._ It was irritating enough that she was short enough to be mistaken for a hobbit. Coming to this party was beginning to look like a more and more horrible idea.

"You're mistaken. I'm simply here because someone invited me…" She trailed off, feeling the muscles in her jaw constrict. Everyone was staring at her.

"Ah, Holly, glad to see you could make it!" Said someone appeared, ducking through one of the low arching doorways.

"Yes, I did." Holly decided this was the first and last time she would be glad to see the old man.

"Allow me to introduce the others: Fili, Kili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dwalin, Balin, Oin, and Gloin." After the man had assigned a name to each of the twelve dwarves in the room, Holly introduced herself. A few of the dwarves gave awkward waves, while others stared with suspicion. Holly stood still, wondering what she was supposed to do next.

"Well, don't just stand there. Come and get some supper!" the dwarf named Dori waved her over. The other dwarves resumed their conversations, and Holly let out a small sigh of relief. She walked into the dining room and grabbed some food. Perhaps she could still make it out of there with minimum casualties to her dignity.

"You're rather short, for a child of Men," a red-haired dwarf named Gloin said.

She turned to face him, a biting remark on the tip of her tongue, but another dwarf intervened before she speak.

"Don't worry about Gloin, lass." Another red-head, this one named Nori, clapped Gloin on the shoulder. "He's suspicious of anyone who's not a dwarf, and I suspect he's had a little too much ale tonight." He winked at her.

Gloin grunted and turned to talk to someone else.

Nori stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"...Nice to meet you, too." His frank honesty and friendly attitude would have made him likeable if Holly had been interested in socializing. Which she wasn't.

"Well, what do you think?" The dwarf gestured to the chaos around them with his mug of ale. "You seem like the type to enjoy parties. I hope we aren't too dull for you."

Was he joking? He must be joking. Holly wasn't sure how to reply. "Dull, yes. But not in the way you're implying."

To her surprise, Nori didn't look offended at all. But before he could reply, a roll smacked him right in the temple, distracting him and giving Holly a chance to escape.

"Enjoying yourself so far?"

Holly turned to face the old man, ignoring his attempt at small talk. "Why am I here?"

"I suggest that you stay for the discussion afterwards. I have a proposition in mind for you, once you learn all the details."

Holly fixed him with a cool stare. "And are you waiting to induce dramatic effect or do you not actually have all the details?"

"We are waiting for one other person. Once he arrives, we will discuss everything as a group."

Ah, right. Team effort and all that.

Holly tilted her head. "You're a wizard. But if you were important, I'd recognize you, so..." She fixed the elderly man with a scrutinizing stare. "Who are you?"

"My name is Gandalf the Gray. You may have heard of me, though hopefully not because of my fireworks."

She recognized the name. Everyone wrote stories and told tales about a tall gray wizard who could conjure a crackle of lightning with a wave of his staff. But after meeting him in person she doubted the texts she'd read had been entirely accurate. Nonetheless, a hobbit hole was an odd place for dwarves to congregate, and the fact piqued her interest about this discussion. "All right. You've intrigued me. I'll stay for the meeting."

Gandalf nodded, satisfied. "Good. Have you met Bilbo yet?"

Holly presumed he was referencing the owner the house. "No, I haven't." Would she have to talk to him too?

"Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!"

Apparently she wouldn't get a choice in the matter, Holly mused as a hobbit marched into the room, fists clenched in frustration. Might as well introduce herself before any more ill-founded assumptions were made.

"Impressive vocabulary," she said, making him look up. When he saw her, his shoulders rose with increasing exasperation.

"Wha—who are you?"

_What a warm welcoming I've received so far_, Holly thought as she mustered all the amiability she possessed. "Holly Curuwen." She held out her hand.

The hobbit hesitated, then seemed to recover and shook it. "Bilbo Baggins. Uh, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," she replied automatically.

He released her hand with a slight nod and turned to the wizard. "Gandalf, there is a slight problem."

"My dear Bilbo, what on Earth is the matter?"

"What's the matter? I'm surrounded by dwarves. What are they _doing_ here?"

Holly raised an eyebrow. Had they all just walked into his house uninvited?

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them," Gandalf said, and his sheepish expression made it quite clear that he had been the one to invite the dwarves into Bag End.

"I don't _want_ to get used to them!" Bilbo raised a finger in a manner of indignation only a hobbit could express. "The state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet, they've pi-pillaged the pantry, and I'm not even going to tell you what they've done to the bathroom. They've all but _destroyed_ the plumbing! I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

Before Gandalf could say anything, Ori shuffled in, clutching a green dish.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

"Here, Ori, give it to me!" Fili sauntered in and took the plate, throwing it to Kili, who threw it to someone else in the kitchen.

"E-Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing crockery! It's over one hundred years old!" Bilbo scrambled after the dwarves to rescue his plate.

Curious, Holly followed him into the dining room. Dori, Gloin, Bofur, and Nori were thumping out a rhythm on the table with the silverware.

"And c-can you not do that?" Bilbo said. "You'll blunt them!"

"Ooh, d'you hear that, lads?" Bofur grinned. "He says we'll blunt the knives!"

Holly backed out of the way as a bowl flew past her head. If they started bloody _singing_ like bards at a festival…

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks…"

More of Bilbo's dishware became airborne as Holly sidestepped out of the room. She hoped this gathering actually had a purpose other than drunken antics.

A few minutes later, their singing dissolved into laughter, which dissolved into silence as three loud knocks resounded from the front door.

"He is here," Gandalf said.

_Someone important_, Holly concluded. _Finally_.

They all shuffled into the foyer, watching the newcomer—another dwarf—pace around Bilbo as though examining him.

"So...this is the hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"P-Pardon me?"

"Axe or sword, what is your weapon of choice?"

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's- why that's relevant."

"Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar," the dwarf said, causing the other dwarves to chuckle. His eyes locked onto Holly. "Gandalf. You made no mention of a woman."

"That is because I only met her earlier today, Thorin. There has been a slight change of plans."

_Change of plans?_ Holly frowned. Were they planning to involve her in whatever this meeting was about?

"But I think that is best to be discussed once you've had something to eat," Gandalf said.

So everyone shuffled back into the dining room. The dwarves sat around the now-cleared table as Bombur served Thorin some leftover soup. Holly stood off to the side, impatient. Perhaps she would finally get some answers as to what they were all here for.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin asked.

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin replied.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Are they with us?" Dwalin asked.

"They will not come. They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

_They are going on a quest to reclaim Erebor,_ Holly realized. She'd heard about the fall of the great dwarven kingdom as a child. And what else would they be gathering an army for? The pieces of this strange puzzle began to click together, with empty spaces concerning herself. She threw a glance in Gandalf's direction, who nodded at her to be patient.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked.

"Aye, the portents say it is time. Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain," Oin replied. "_When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast shall end_."

They had decided to undertake a most likely fatal quest because of some birds? Honestly.

Bilbo's eyes widened. "Beast? What beast?"

"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible," Bofur informed the hobbit. The name sent a jolt of shivers down Holly's spine, which was ridiculous because it was just a name. It was just a name. "Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Teeth like razors, claws like meathooks—"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is."

"I must warn all of you: the task would be nearly impossible with an army behind us," Balin said. "But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor the brightest."

_That's for sure_, Holly agreed. Unless they were planning to sing the dragon to death.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!" Fili's statement elicited several determined nods around the table.

"And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time," Kili said.

"Oh, well, I wouldn't say that…" Gandalf began, but the dwarves were too excited by this point to pay attention to him.

"We may have a chance yet, lads!" Gloin banged his fist on the table.

"Wrong."

Fifteen heads turned to Holly, who regarded them with raised eyebrows. "If you think you lot have a shot at this, you're wrong. Optimism, which you all seem to have an overabundance of, won't get you anywhere. Neither will all the dwarf armies in the world. Defeating a dragon is impossible, unless you have some sort of secret weapon that I've yet to hear about."

Several mouths opened in protest to her speech, but what could they say? She was speaking with a logical point of view, from which all her observations would be irrefutable.

"The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years," Thorin said, fixing her with a look that was not quite a glare. He turned back to the others, as if that statement alone had been enough to dismiss hers. "Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" His voice escalated into a determined cry as the dining room echoed with the cheering of the dwarves.

Holly let her shoulders fall into a more relaxed posture. They were tenacious—she would give them that. But that would probably get them killed anyway.

Balin's voice managed to calm the dwarves from their momentary revelry. "You forget—the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf pulled a coal-black key out of his sleeve with an air of what Holly supposed was meant to be mystery.

Thorin's eyes widened. "How came you by this?"

"It was given to me by your father, Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now." The wizard handed Thorin the key. Thirteen shining eyes stared at the object.

"If there's a key, there must be a door!" Fili said.

_Obviously_. Holly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This meeting was becoming a bit tedious.

"The runes speak of a passage into the lower halls," Gandalf said. "But I do not know where to find this passage. However, there are others in Middle Earth who may have the skill to read this map. The quest ahead of us will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. If we are careful and clever, I believe it may be done."

"That's why we need a burglar!" Ori said.

All eyes turned to Bilbo, who nodded. "Hm. A good one too. An expert, I'd imagine."

"And are you?" Oin asked, adjusting his ear trumpet.

"A-Am I what?"

"He said he's an expert, lads!" Oin's comment comment caused several of the dwarves to laugh.

"W-What? Me? No, no, I'm not an expert! No!" Bilbo wrung his hands.

"I'm afraid I'll have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He hardly seems like burglar material," Balin said. Holly agreed as well. The hobbit would get everyone killed before they could reach the Misty Mountains.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," Dwalin said with a warning glare in the hobbit's direction.

This sparked several conversations between the individual dwarves, which showed signs of escalating into a full-blown argument had Gandalf not intervened.

"ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR THEN A BURGLAR HE IS!" The wizard's form seemed to grow taller as he cast shadows around the room.

"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet and can pass unseen if they choose," he said in a milder tone as he sat back down. "And the smell of a hobbit would be all but unknown to a dragon. You have asked me to find a fourteenth member for our company and I have chosen Mister Baggins. There is a lot more to him than meets the eye."

"Fine. We'll do it your way," Thorin said. "Give him the contract."

"No, no, no—"

Balin handed Bilbo a piece of parchment. When he unfolded it, the paper stretched all the way down to the floor.

Thorin turned to stare at Holly. "And what of the woman?"

"I do, in fact, have a name—"

"She will be accompanying us as well," Gandalf said before she could start an argument herself.

"What?" Thorin and Holly said at the same time. They stared at each other for an awkward second, then the dark-haired dwarf turned away.

"The wee lass?" Gloin raised a fiery eyebrow. "But she's only a child."

"I am well into my adult years already," Holly said, feeling tension bunch up in her shoulders. It wasn't as though she wanted to prove anything to them. But she wasn't going to have this lot believe that she was anything less than full-grown (in years, if nothing else).

"But you're so short," Bofur said.

Before Holly could say anything particularly horrible, Thorin came to her rescue.

"I will not have a _woman_ on this quest."

Holly twitched a little at the comment but turned to Gandalf instead. "You're making the ill-supported assumption that I want to go on this quest. Did I not just say that killing a dragon would be impossible?" It wasn't that she didn't want to go. She felt an inexplicable interest in seeing the lost kingdom of Erebor. And attempting to kill a dragon would provide an interesting challenge. But few things annoyed her quite as much as someone bossing her around.

"Both of you are acting like children! There are bigger things at work here and I strongly suggest that you take my advice!"

"You've strongly suggested quite a few things, but if I choose to go on this quest it will be my decision, and mine alone," Holly said, too caught up in being impudent to wonder what he meant about 'bigger things'.

"I will not have a woman on this quest!" Thorin repeated through clenched teeth. "It is too dangerous, and she has not the skills that will allow her to survive! She will only be a burden! And I will not be responsible for her death," he added in a more subdued tone.

Holly turned and narrowed her eyes at Thorin. "And here you are making ill-supported assumptions as well."

Thorin stared back. "How could a woman possibly prove herself worthy enough to survive this quest?"

Holly's fingers twitched. Perhaps she _would_ show him. That would shut him up.

"There will be time for that later," Gandalf said. "Her addition to the company is more than a matter of whether or not she can survive."

"Excuse me." Everyone turned to the hobbit. He stared at the contract in his hands in disbelief. "Sorry, but, uh, it says here…" Blue eyes scanned the contract. "Um, present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations…" He glanced up at the group, attempting to sound out, "E-vi-sce-ra-tion…." His expression turned incredulous as he read aloud, "_Incineration_."

_He must be new to this whole 'violence' concept_, Holly mused.

"There-There must be some sort of mistake."

"Oh no, laddie. Smaug'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur said.

"Oh. Huh," Bilbo huffed, swaying on the spot a little.

"Y'alright, laddie?" Balin asked.

"Y-Yeah, no, I feel a bit faint."

"Just think furnace with wings!" Bofur said, swaying a bit. Clearly he'd had too much ale.

"Air. I-I-I need air." Bilbo leaned over and put his hands on his knees.

"Flashing light, searing pain, then—poof! you're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

"Hm." Bilbo seemed to be digesting this information, eyes a bit unfocused. "Nope."

And the hobbit collapsed, out cold.

Holly snatched up contract with a contemptuous twist of her lips and began skimming through it.

"Right, then. Anyone have a quill?"

Thorin stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Clearly you do not understand the dangers this mission will involve. You are hardly qualified to travel with us."

If she confronted him head on, he would refuse to listen to her argument to save face in front of his kin. But if she appealed to a figure with more authority…

Ignoring the chagrin she felt at doing so, Holly turned to Gandalf, eyebrows raised. The wizard seemed to understand and fixed Thorin with a pointed stare.

"You must trust me on this."

Thorin turned back to Holly. "By traveling with us, you will be putting yourself at risk."

She fought back a smirk. "Obviously."

"And if you prove to be a hindrance, we will leave you behind."

"Fair enough." Holly didn't expect any of the dwarves to coddle her. That would only prove to be annoying, and a hindrance to herself. Ori handed her a quill and she signed her name at the bottom.

Holly took a moment to study her spiky handwriting. She hadn't even bothered to read the whole contract. She had little idea what she had actually signed up for. Perhaps she had bitten off more than she could chew.

Holly dismissed the thought and set the contract down on the table. Regardless of the outcome, she was part of this Company now. And before she could focus on the life-changing aspects of the journey, she would have to survive a group of rowdy, ignorant, overly-optimistic dwarves.

She pressed her lips together. Perhaps she _had_ bitten off more than she could chew.

…..

After the meeting (and impromptu fainting) the dwarves dispersed throughout Bag End once more.

Holly picked up her book and went find Gandalf. She had questions that the wizard needed to answer, seeing as the meeting had left her more confused than before.

She heard the wizard's voice in one of the sitting rooms. As she approached the entrance, she could also hear Bilbo's voice.

"I'm sorry, Gandalf. I can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit." He brushed past Holly and padded down the hallway towards his bedroom. She spared a brief glance at his retreating figure and walked into the room.

"Ah, Holly. How can I help you?" Gandalf said, stooped over a little due to the low ceiling.

"You can start by explaining why you want me to go on a quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain."

"Ah. I see. All your questions will be answered in due time. For now, try to enjoy yourself while you can. Make friends with the company. You will most likely need them as allies in the future."

"Oh, please. You're not my _mother_, for Eru's sake." Holly sighed. "I suppose I won't miss anything if I leave now?"

"Actually, I would appreciate it if you would talk to Bilbo. Try to convince him to sign the contract. I do think this adventure will do more good than he knows."

That might prove to be interesting, if nothing else. "All right. I'll do what I can."

…

Bilbo sat down onto his bed and sighed. An adventure! And dwarves, in his own home! He'd been expecting a quiet, untroubled night, like every other night he'd had since… forever, it seemed.

Every night, he had the same routine.

That was true for the rest of his day, too. Except for Sundays, when he walked to the market. And he always made sure to sweep the chimneys on Trewsdays—

"Mind if I come in?"

He looked up as a slight figure appeared in his doorway. It was the woman from before…Holly, was it? She was rather short, for a human. Her features were sharp and angular, in an almost unattractive fashion, and were framed by dark, curly hair. Her vibrant cerulean eyes seemed to be taking everything in at once.

"Can I help you?" Bilbo asked with a sigh.

Holly sat down in the chair across from his bed, fixing him with an analytical stare. "Gandalf wants me to persuade you to sign the contract."

Bilbo frowned. "Well…don't trouble yourself. I've already made up my mind, so you don't have to—"

"That's all right. I enjoy a challenge." Holly sat back and smirked.

"Um…all right, then."

"So, I suppose you feel quite comfortable in your home, here in the Shire."

Bilbo nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

Holly examined the room with a slight smile. "It's a nice place."

"Thank you."

"Did you do it yourself?"

"Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but why are you…here?"

"Gandalf invited me."

"No, I mean, why are you going on an adventure with a group of strangers?" Bilbo didn't point it out, but it was also unusual for women to go on any sort of dangerous quest.

Holly shrugged. "Why aren't you? What's stopping you from going to see Erebor? Just imagine getting to see one of the greatest dwarf kingdoms in Middle Earth, one of the most economically advanced civilizations…"

"But there's a dragon living inside Erebor."

"True. But it's really more about the journey, not the destination, isn't it?" She shifted forward in her seat, eyes gleaming. "When was the last time you camped out under the stars? Listened to the sounds of insects in the night? Took even a small risk?"

Bilbo didn't see Holly's lips twitch. He was engrossed in memories of running about the Shire in his younger days, exploring and pretending to meet elves.

Somewhere in his house, the dwarves were singing another song, this one low, haunting, and strangely moving.

"Have you ever seen the Misty Mountains? It's a long row of snowy peaks, and just seeing it makes you feel so _alive_. And I bet you've never been to Rivendell. It's the elven realm near the Misty Mountains. Probably the most magical place I've ever been to. There are glowing waterfalls, trees with leaves of orange, emerald and gold, and the architecture—all arches and broad, pristine buildings…"

The hobbit felt a strange exhilaration as something Tookish awoke inside of him. _I must be mad_, Bilbo thought as he stared out of his bedroom window. Yet, he couldn't stop thinking about the prospect of going on a journey, an actual adventure.

"I'll leave you to think about it," Holly said, rising from the chair and leaving the bedroom.

_An...adventure_. What would it be like, to wear a sword instead of a walking stick and climb mountains instead of writing poetry?

Outside his window, Bilbo watched one of his neighbors light a lantern. The flame glowed like the furnace of a dragon's maw, ready to swallow him in white-hot death. And just like that, he was Bilbo Baggins again, the respectable bachelor who had no interest in adventures, or quests, or anything of the sort.

_Adventure, indeed!_ Bilbo shook his head to rid it of such fanciful thoughts. He was a plain fellow with no need for leaving his home for months on end. With that, the hobbit stood and shut his bedroom door.

Through his window, the stars winked like gemstones, encompassing the quiet land below in a gentle, inviting glow.

**Disclaimer: It ain't mine.**

**Now that that's out of the way, welcome to my fic! I made some major changes as of 8/16/15, so if you've read the chapter before then and are confused, hopefully this note clears things up.**

**Feel free to leave a comment or a follow, it helps me out a lot!**


	2. On the Great East Road

**Chapter 2**

_The cavernous room was illuminated dimly by endless piles of gold. A thick haze of dust hung in the stale air. There was dust everywhere—on the staircases, the arches, the walls. Every surface was drab with disuse._

_A faint, puffing breath echoed through the stagnant air—_

Holly opened her eyes, shaking her hair out of her face. Had she fallen asleep? The world rocked back and forth ever so slightly—ah. Right. She was on her way to meet Thorin's Company. She sat up straighter, rubbing one eye, then the other, unnerved. She never fell asleep without meaning to. Perhaps she had stayed up later than she'd intended.

Up ahead, she could see the dwarves riding in single file, chatting amiably with one another.

"Um. Hello…" she said, not quite sure how to introduce herself.

The dwarves turned around.

"Glad to see you could make it, lass!" Balin greeted kindly.

'_Lass_'… She doubted he remembered her actual name.

"Where is the hobbit?" Thorin demanded.

_Nice to see you too, Lord Dark-and-Broody._ "Don't know. Probably overslept."

"Fine," he replied. "Keep moving."

Holly glanced back at the way she'd come. She wondered if Bilbo would actually show up. She had obviously made an impression the previous night, but he could have changed his mind between then and now.

Her doubts were dispelled about fifteen minutes later when they heard a shout:

"WAIT!"

Everyone turned around again.

"WAAIIT!"

And who should come sprinting (struggling, really) down the worn path but Bilbo Baggins, the contract in his hand flapping in the wind.

"I signed it," he panted when he had finally caught up. He thrust the contract at Balin, who examined it.

"Well, everything seems to be in order. Welcome to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins."

"Dammit, I should have bet on this," Holly muttered.

Apparently a few of the dwarves had the same idea; most of them were tossing sacks of coins to one another.

"Come on, Nori! Pay up!" Oin said.

Nori tossed a bag of coins to Oin and moved his horse up next to Holly's.

"Did you think he was going to come?"

"Hm?"

"Did you think the hobbit was going to show up?"

"Oh, I knew he was going to show up," she asserted. Or, at least, she had been fairly sure.

"Why? You bribed him?" Nori asked with a cheeky wink that suggested he was _not_ talking about money.

Holly blinked, crimson patches flaring up on her neck and cheeks. "_E-Excuse me_?"

The dwarf held his hands up in surrender. "Calm down lass, I was only joking!"

"I'd assume that anything Nori says is a joke," Bofur butted in good-naturedly, moving his pony between theirs. "If there's anything you need to know, lass, it's that this fella is just one big joke." The dwarf in question grinned at her, not bothered at all by Bofur's claim.

"Well, I hope you're joking about calling me 'lass'. I do have a name, you know," she responded, and was surprised when the two dwarves laughed.

"Okay then, Holly." Bofur reached over to clap her on the shoulder. "Welcome to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield."

At the front of the line, Dwalin turned to Thorin, eyebrows raised. "What do you think?"

Thorin sent another glance back at the young woman talking to Bofur and Nori. "She is intelligent, there's no doubt about that. But whether or not she will be able to survive in the wild is a different matter."

"And if she's not?"

"...Gandalf must have a good reason for wanting to bring her along."

Dwalin nodded, understanding his friend's uncertainty. "I know how much this quest means to you. Whatever happens, it is ultimately your decision."

Thorin straightened, donning the cast-iron determination he'd been born and bred into. "I know. And I'll do whatever it takes to get us to the mountain."

…..

A fine, misty rain began to fall as the Company made their first stop in Bree, a small, muddy town on the outskirts of the Shire. A worn wooden sign with _The Prancing Pony_ engraved on it swung in the wind as Balin pushed open the tavern door. Sounds of laughter and the heavy scent of ale flooded the street.

"Wait a moment," Thorin said as Holly made to follow the rest of the dwarves into the building. "I need to speak with you. And you, Master Baggins," he added to Bilbo, stopping him as well.

They stood under the dripping, creaking sign while Thorin appraised them for a moment.

"You will be expected," he said after a moment, "to carry the same weight as everyone else in the Company in terms of responsibilities. And you will do so without complaint. And if we ever run into danger, your first priority is to get to safety. Do not try and help us fight. If I give you an order, you will follow it. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Holly answered. She considered adding 'sir', just to annoy him, but thought better of it. He could probably still leave her behind if he wanted to.

"Yeah, I can do that," Bilbo answered as well.

Thorin nodded. "Good." The three of them walked inside the tavern without another word.

It was clear they would need to earn Thorin's respect, if such a thing was attainable at all. Holly didn't care about that, though. She would do what he asked merely to show him that she could. She hadn't joined the Company to make friends.

Inside the tavern, the dwarves were seated at a long wooden table in the back. They were earning quite a few looks from the other patrons, though that might have been due to the various weapons strapped to their backs. A young girl, about halfway through her teens, was serving plates of meat and potatoes.

Holly stood to the side, uncertain if she should sit down. All the dwarves were laughing and talking with each other, like they had the night at Bag End. Perhaps she would wait outside. She wasn't that hungry anyway.

Ori noticed her standing there and moved over on the wooden bench, patting the spot next to him. "You can sit here, Holly!"

"Hm? Oh. Okay." She took a seat.

Holly tapped her fingers against the table, staring around the room. A sallow-faced man slouched against the opposite wall, smoking a pipe. A couple of hobbits sat at the bar, laughing with each other. Two cloaked rangers walked into the tavern in deep discussion.

"Are you going to have something to eat?" She looked up. It was the young waitress.

"Not hungry," she replied shortly.

"Nonsense!" Dori exclaimed from her other side. "You need to keep up your strength." He turned to the waitress. "She'll have one, too."

"I'm perfectly capable of getting food for myself," Holly said, miffed that he was trying to coddle her.

"Well, if you're not going to do it, someone has to," Dori countered with an air of finality.

What was she supposed to say to that? Was he actually concerned about her wellbeing?

Before she could reply, Balin spoke up from across the table. "So, Holly, tell us about yourself."

_Such an excruciatingly vague and annoying question._ "Why don't you tell me about yourself?" she deflected the inquiry easily. "You're from the Blue Mountains, right?"

Balin seemed taken aback by this, to say the least. "Oh. Well, yes. I was originally from Erebor, but, well, I don't live there anymore…"

Holly nodded sympathetically. Anything to keep the attention off herself. "What is it like in the Blue Mountains?" People always loved to talk about their own experiences rather than those of other people.

Balin did not disappoint. He began to describe life in the Blue Mountains, which was inhabited primarily by dwarves.

Holly was only half-listening to stories about forests and mines. It would take months to get to Erebor. That was a lot of time to be making conversation with the dwarves. Signing that contract was starting to look like a mistake. Holly knew she was better off alone. It had always been that way.

"Lass? You look a little pale." Balin's voice brought her back to the present.

"Have some ale. That'll make you feel better." Ori pushed a tankard of the brownish liquid in front of her.

Holly sighed. "Okay, what is this?"

"What's...what?"

"Why are you all being so nice?" she demanded.

When it became clear that she wasn't joking, Balin answered, "Well, you're part of the Company now, aren't you?"

Holly didn't see how that was relevant, and said so.

"We're in this together now," Balin explained. "We all stick together." Dori and Ori added their concurrence.

Holly nodded slowly. _It must be a dwarf thing_, she concluded. _Loyalty and honor and all that._

What if she was expected to be nice back to them?

It wouldn't matter for long, though. Once the dwarves spent enough time with her, they would stop trying to be nice.

That was just the way things were.

….

A sharp scream ripped through the air.

Bilbo jolted violently at the sound, nearly dropping the apple he had been feeding to his pony, Myrtle. He scurried back over to where the rest of the Company was resting.

"What was that?" he hissed.

"Orcs," Kili replied.

Another scream. Bilbo's face paled considerably in the firelight. "Orcs?"

"Throat-cutters," Fili clarified, his face grim. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams—just lots of blood," Kili added solemnly.

Bilbo turned away, horrified. Fili and Kili exchanged a glance and smirked.

Holly sat up, having been woken by the screaming. Apparently they were trying to scare the hobbit with bloody orc stories. _Hilarious_.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin growled, standing up. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

Kili bowed his head, the very image of a scolded puppy. "We didn't mean anything by it."

"No you didn't. You know nothing of the world," Thorin muttered, walking a short distance away from the Company.

"Cheerful fellow, isn't he?" Holly murmured.

"Don't mind him. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs," Balin said softly.

Holly tilted her head back. _Oh, good. This sounds like a very long, boring backstory._

"After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But the enemy had gotten there first…"

Thorin could hear Balin talking about the Battle of Azanulbizar. Just the thought of it brought back a flood of bloodstained memories. The loss of his brother, his grandfather, and his father weighed heavily on his heart. He remembered the blood, the screams, walking over the corpses of his kin in search of his father. Azog's twisted, sadistic smile flashed red in his vision, making the dwarf glower.

"And the pale orc? What happened to him?" Bilbo asked.

"That filth died of his wounds long ago," Thorin said, walking back into the camp. He forced himself to relax a little. He would never have to face that nightmarish beast again.

Holly sighed and laid back down. Finally, they were done talking. It was a moving story, she supposed, but extraneous nonetheless. The battle at Moria had been ages ago, so why would Thorin still be upset about it? She knew where the past belonged: out of mind, lest it cloud one's judgement.

Bilbo took one last look at Thorin before settling down as well. He'd felt a surge of sympathy for the dwarf while hearing the tale. Although Thorin had seemed like a bit of a stick in the mud at first, Bilbo could now see the reason behind the dwarf's sharp glances and stiff shoulders—he'd lost almost everything. As the hobbit drifted off to sleep, he resolved to stick with the company for most of the journey, and help them get back at least some of what they had lost.

…..

"Put your hood on, lass, or you'll catch a cold," Dori insisted, pulling his own tighter around his head to ward off the steady downpour that was currently assaulting the Company.

"Hm? Oh. Fine." Holly drew her hood about her head, wincing as the pool of water that had collected there dumped itself into her hair. She'd forgotten to do so earlier. It was so much easier to devote herself to her thoughts _indoors_, where she didn't have to be bothered by nuisances like the weather.

"Mister Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" Dori called to the gray wizard at the front of the line.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you would be best off finding another wizard."

_Why am I not surprised?_ Holly raised an eyebrow. Maybe the only requirements for being a wizard were a staff and a robe, and the magical powers were something you had to actually work for.

"Are there any?" Bilbo inquired.

"What?"

"Other wizards?"

"There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards, though I've quite forgotten their names."

"Alatar and Pallando."

"Hm?" Gandalf turned around.

Holly maneuvered her pony closer to the wizard's mount. "Those are the names of the Blue Wizards. The ones that you forgot about."

"Ah, yes. Thank you."

"And who is the fifth?" Bilbo asked.

"Well, that would be Radagast the Brown."

"Is he a great wizard or is he… more like you?"

Holly smirked.

Gandalf looked miffed. "I think he is a great wizard, in his own way. He prefers the company of woodland creatures to others. He resides in the forest to the east and seeks to protect it. And a good thing, too, for evil will always try to find a foothold in this world."

Holly let her pony fall back in the line again, bored with the topic. She'd heard about Radagast too, and he seemed to be even less of a wizard than Gandalf. Beside her, Ori gave a loud yawn.

"Hey, Holly."

This was the first time Ori had spoken to her since The Prancing Pony. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry if I was bothering you at the Prancing Pony. I didn't mean to make you upset."

"I wasn't upset," Holly responded. "And don't flatter yourself—everyone was annoying me, not just you."

"Oh," Ori said quietly, sounding almost disappointed.

Holly said nothing. She wasn't there to make friends.

They would all learn that soon enough.

**So what do you guys think? Holly's not the most sociable person, is she? Kind of a bitch actually. Let me know what you think in the comments and feel free to favorite or follow, it helps me out a lot!**

**(Edit:11/23/14) I combined chapters 1 and 2, so the other chapter numbers might be a little off.**


	3. The Noble Bachelor

**Chapter 3**

Bilbo did end up catching a cold from the rain due to his lack of a cloak. Other than that and an incident in which Fili and Kili accidentally led an enraged bear into the camp, the Company had not run into any problems since they'd left the Shire. But all of that changed very soon.

"We'll camp here for the night," Thorin announced. They'd stopped to set up camp at an abandoned farm.

"Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them." he sent a meaningful glance towards his nephews that conveyed a message somewhere along the lines of, 'Do not lead any more bears into the camp or I will disown you.'

Gandalf strode up to the top of the hill, where a half-destroyed farmhouse had been built. "A farmer and his family used to live here," the wizard muttered, inspecting the ruins.

"Used to." Holly glanced around the house as well. "They left in a hurry."

The wizard nodded with a thoughtful frown. "There is still time before nightfall. Perhaps we should move on." He turned to Thorin. "We could make for the Hidden Valley."

Thorin's gaze darkened. "I have told you already, I will not go near that place."

"And I am telling you to reconsider. We could get rest, food, advice," Gandalf argued.

"I do not need their advice."

"We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond may be able to help us."

"Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, and the elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my father and my grandfather?"

"You are neither of them!" Gandalf waved his staff. "I did not give you that map and key to hold on to the past."

"I did not know they were yours to keep," Thorin growled.

Gandalf glared for a moment, then stalked down down the hill without another word.

"Where are you going?" Bilbo asked, looking a bit lost.

"To seek the company of the only one with the slightest bit of sense among us!"

"And who's that?"

"Myself, Mr. Baggins!"

_Rude_.

Holly turned back to Thorin. "Gandalf is right, though. We shouldn't camp here." Not that she wanted to go to Rivendell either, though for different reasons.

His guarded gaze met hers. "Why do you say that?"

"Obvious. This house was built one, two years ago, yet half of it is already demolished. And don't you think it's a bit odd that the majority of the furniture is _outside_ the house?" She pointed down the hill, to where a broken chair lay.

Thorin shook his head. "It's too late in the day to look for another spot to set up camp. We will stay here."

Holly gave an irritated sigh. "And wait to get eaten by whatever destroyed this house?" Couldn't he just listen to plain, sound, logic?

He gave an intimidating glare, his posture becoming adamant, stubborn. "Almost everyone in this company is perfectly capable of defending themselves. If you are discouraged by the thought of danger, then you should not have come." He walked back to the rest of the company. "Come on, Bombur, we're hungry."

Holly scowled. This dwarf was going to get all of them killed.

….

Night dropped its dark blanket over the sky, and no creatures (bears or otherwise) attacked the camp. Bombur made some stew after they'd all decided that Gandalf was not coming back anytime soon and it would useless to wait for him, and Bofur served it into wooden bowls.

"Do us a favor and take these to the lads." Bofur handed two bowls to Bilbo. "And these are for you and Bilbo." Another two bowls were handed to Holly. The pair of them set off towards the woods, where Fili and Kili were watching the ponies.

Bilbo sniffled and gave a little cough, making sure to turn his head away from the stew.

"How's your cold?" Holly inquired, surprising herself. Was she really trying to make conversation?

"I'm managing. Would be a bit more bearable if I had a handkerchief…" Holly gave a small smile at that. Bilbo had made a bit of a fuss earlier that week due to the fact that he'd forgotten his handkerchief, only to be ridiculed by most of the dwarves. He handled the humiliation well, though. Or better than Holly would have, at any rate.

They found Fili and Kili standing in the woods, staring into space. Bilbo tried to offer them their stew, but to no avail. He cast a glance over at Holly, confused.

"Perhaps their brains have stopped working," she explained. "It was bound to happen sometime." The brothers were nice enough, but she didn't think much of them beyond that.

Bilbo turned back to the brothers. "Is something wrong?"

Kili finally spoke. "We're supposed to be looking after the ponies."

"Only, we have a slight problem," Fili continued.

"Just one problem? You sure?" Holly quipped.

"We had sixteen."

"Now there's fourteen."

"You sure you can count correctly?"

Bilbo shot her a look.

"Daisy and Bungo are missing," Kili observed.

"Well, that's not good. That's not good at all. Should we tell Thorin?" Bilbo said.

"No, let's not worry him," Fili said a little too quickly.

"As our official burglar, we thought you might want to take a look into it," Kili suggested

Bilbo observed an uprooted tree a few feet away. "Well, uh…it looks like something uprooted these trees. Probably something big."

Holly concealed an irritated sigh and stepped closer to the tree, handing the stew to Fili. She took in the splintered trunk and the large clods of dirt hanging onto the roots. She smacked her forehead. "Oh, stupid, _stupid_! Of course!" She shoved a branch out of the way and strode deeper into the forest.

"Holly? What is it?" Bilbo called after her.

"Trolls!"

….

Flies buzzed in and out of the mouth of the cave. The sound reverberated throughout the otherwise silent forest. It was likely the trolls had scared all the animals off—Holly was certain they were the culprits of the uprooted trees and the destroyed farmhouse. She had been fairly sure before, but the existence of the cave had been the final proof. It had only taken her an hour or two to find it, and she hadn't seen Fili, Kili, or Bilbo since. None of them had elected to follow her, apparently.

The cave wasn't worth investigating further at the moment (neither was the smell)—there was clearly nobody home. The trolls had to be in another part of the forest. All she had to do now was find Thorin and inform him that yes indeed there was something out there that could potentially kill them.

She was halfway back to the camp when she detected the faintest sound of voices. Someone—no, _multiple_ someones were shouting. Perhaps she was too late to warn the Company and they'd gone and found the trolls themselves. Half-exasperated, she followed the sound, guided by the barest orange flicker of a fire.

Holly heard the trolls before she saw them, their nasally voices coming out jumbled as they tried to speak around their thick tongues.

The situation was worse than she had expected. The dwarves were tied up in sacks and piled in a corner next to a crude corrall that held four of their ponies. In the center of the clearing, three trolls were arguing over the shouts of protest from their captives. Bilbo watched all of this unfold from behind a tree.

"Don't bother cooking them! Let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly!"

"I think they should be sauteéd and grilled with a sprinkle of sage."

"Oh for Eru's sake," Holly muttered, moving next to Bilbo and making him jump. "How did this happen?"

"Fili and Kili sent me to go find the ponies," he whispered back. "And then the rest of the Company got involved and it sort of...went downhill from there." That was an understatement. "I only just managed to slip away, and now…"

They were in quite the predicament. But the beginnings of a plan were already beginning to form in her mind. "Are you going to help them?"

Bilbo gaped at her. "How do you expect _me_ to rescue thirteen dwarves from a group of trolls?"

She glanced up at the paling sky. Dawn was fast approaching, and if Bilbo could stall the trolls long enough they would have no choice but to flee back to their cave or be turned to stone. It was their only shot at rescuing the dwarves. "I don't know, talk to them. We just need a distraction—I'm sure you can do that without fainting."

"That's insane," Bilbo argued, ignoring her barbed comment. "If your brilliant plan is getting me killed, then—"

"Oh, you're right, let's wait around for the dwarves to get killed while you come up with a better idea!"

They were so engrossed in their argument that neither of them had noticed that the trolls' conversation in the clearing had fallen silent.

"If you think it's such a good idea, then why don't you go do it yourself?"

Holly gave an irritated huff at his words, but before she could respond, one of the trolls reached around the tree and grabbed both of them. Holly let out an embarrassing squeak.

"Brought us some more meat, eh?" the troll sneered at Bilbo. "This one doesn't look too bony." He shook Holly until her teeth rattled.

She was frozen in the troll's grip, fear clouding over reason. This was _not_ supposed to happen.

"Actually—I, um. I came to tell you that, um, you are making a terrible mistake!" Bilbo spoke up, voice trembling slightly.

"You can't reason with them, they're half wits!" Dori shouted from the pile of dwarves.

"Half wits? What does that make us?" Bofur retorted.

"I mean, you're making a mistake with, uh, with the, uh, seasoning."

Holly stared. That had to have taken some quick thinking. Perhaps he wasn't as helpless as she'd originally believed.

The troll holding Bilbo squinted. "What about the seasoning?"

"Well, have you smelt them? You're going to need something stronger than sage if you're going to eat this lot."

Several of the dwarves yelled in outrage. Holly sighed, hoping this would work out. These dwarves could be plain _idiots_.

"I-In fact, the true secret to cooking dwarves is to…skin them first!" Bilbo nodded, seeming a bit more confident in his diversion, despite the fact that the Company protested vehemently from their sacks.

Bilbo continued rambling on for a bit about seasoning and then was forced to convince the trolls that the dwarves were infected with parasites when one of them tried to eat Bombur. Holly began to wonder how long exactly was he supposed to carry on with this when a loud voice boomed:

"The dawn will take you all!"

Everyone turned to where Gandalf was positioned on a boulder. He raised his staff and cracked it down upon the boulder, splitting it in half and flooding the clearing with sunlight.

Holly let out a gasp as the troll dropped her, the fall knocking the air out of her lungs. Bilbo landed next to her. The trolls shrieked in pain as the sunlight washed over their skin. They cowered and writhed, their skin flaking and crackling until the three monsters had stiffened into stone. After a moment of stunned silence, the dwarves broke out into a cheer, victorious (if you could call it that).

Gandalf made his way down from the rock with surprising agility. "I came at the right time, I see."

"A few more minutes and we would have been fine." Holly responded, standing and brushing herself off. She surveyed the dwarves, who were still in their sacks. "'Perfectly capable of defending yourself', I see." She offered a hand to Bilbo. "Still, things went better than I thought they would."

Holly received only a glare in return. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," Bilbo said, climbing to his feet without her help.

She dropped her hand back to her side. "Problem?"

"Have you no respect for other people's safety?" He shifted and cleared his throat. "I could have died back there. We _both_ could have died."

"But we didn't." She pointed out. That was rather obvious.

He sighed, exasperated with her for some reason. "So you weren't the slightest bit afraid that we were going to be eaten by trolls?"

Come to think of it, he had looked a bit terrified when the troll had grabbed him. But that was his _job_ as a burglar, wasn't' it? Holly hadn't planned on being grabbed herself, but if things had come down to it she probably could have handled things herself.

"Well, I am sorry if my actions frightened you. If such a situation arises again, I'll try to enlist the help of someone who will not be afraid," she replied flatly.

That seemed like a fair offer to her, but all she received in reply was an icy, "Okay, fine."

Holly watched as Bilbo walked away to the help the dwarves out of their sacks. She supposed she'd never understand hobbits.

Or anyone else, for that matter.

**I changed up the encounter with the trolls. I sort of combined the movie and the book and added a bit of a twist of my own to it. :) I hope you enjoyed.**

**So Holly is bein a bit rude now...nonetheless I enjoyed writing her fighting with Bilbo. When will she learn?**

**Thanks for all the support and feel ****free to leave a comment telling me what you think! It helps me out a lot!**


	4. A Flight for Life

**Chapter 4**

"What are you doing?" Dwalin glanced over at Nori, Gloin, and Bofur as they pawed dirt over a small chest filled with gold.

"We're making a long term deposit," Gloin responded, cheerful for once at their find.

Holly strolled into the cave to see if they were done with their little treasure hunt. After all the dwarves had been freed, she'd shown them the cave and they'd immediately pillaged it, apparently forgetting that they'd spent the whole night _not sleeping_.

A few coins were scattered around the cave, along with an assortment of weapons, bones, and rubbish. The gold glinted from the array of debris, making blurry, disorienting lines in her vision. Holly put one hand on the cave wall to steady herself, feeling a strange lurch in her stomach at the sight.

"Doing okay, Miss Holly?" Nori asked, looking up at her.

"I haven't slept in twenty four hours. I'm doing great," she replied, the sudden deluge of emotion fading.

He stood up and clapped her on the shoulder as he passed her. "Why don't you find a weapon to defend yourself with?"

She recoiled a little from the contact. "Fine." Quite unusual, that they were allowing a female to wield a weapon. From what she knew, that was part of their culture, but she wasn't.  
All of the swords she found were too heavy to be of any use. But she did find a small knife, and pocketed that. A skilled opponent would be able to easily disarm her and use it against her, but it was better than nothing.

As she walked out of the cave, Holly barely had time to enjoy the fresh air before Thorin shouted, "Something's coming!"

The dwarves drew their weapons and ran towards whatever was headed their way. Holly followed, briefly considering the knife in her pocket, then deciding to let the dwarves handle things. Perhaps they wouldn't get put into sacks this time.

Among the wide range of what the company expected to burst forth—wargs, orcs, wolves, bears—a rabbit-drawn sleigh was not among them. A disheveled man appearing to have spawned from the forest itself clutched onto the sleigh, screaming about thieves and fire and murder and the like. They all stared as he skidded to a stop in the middle of the clearing.

"Radagast!" Gandalf exclaimed in greeting, striding forward. "Radagast the Brown! What are you doing here?"

This _is Radagast?_ Holly frowned. Certainly Gandalf wasn't the most … _resplendent_ of wizards, but at least he had some appearance of competence. This one appeared to have been out of contact with civilization for at least a century.

"I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something's terribly wrong," Radagast replied in a high, nervous voice.

"A bath might help," Nori said quietly. Holly tried and failed to hold back a grin.

There was an awkward silence. "Yes?" Gandalf prompted.

Radagast opened and closed his mouth several times, deep in thought. "Oh, I'm sorry. Just give me a minute. I had a thought, and now I've lost it!" He made a frustrated noise. "It was right on the tip of my tongue."

The dwarves exchanged glances, eyebrows raised.

"Oh!" Radagast exclaimed. "It's not a thought at all. It's a little…" Gandalf reached up and pulled something off Radagast's tongue. "Stick insect!"

Holly shoved her hands in her pockets. Certainly there were other things for her to be doing than listening to this madman. She slipped away from their little congregation and made her way back to the campsite to check if the ponies were still there.

"Where are you going, Miss Holly?"

She bit back a sigh and turned around. Ori trotted towards her, wielding his notebook as per usual.

"I'm off to check on the ponies." _Alone_.

"I'll come with you, then," Ori offered, brandishing his slingshot. "It's not safe for a lady to be on her own in the wild."

Deciding not to mention that she'd spent a good portion of the night 'on her own in the wild', Holly shrugged and continued walking. "Fine."

They trudged on in silence for a while.

"So," Ori finally bridged the soundless gap between them. "Are you from this side of the Misty Mountains?"

"No."

"Then where are you from?"

"Laketown, originally."

"That's far away. Have you lived there your whole life?"

_Why in Arda does he want to know all of this about me?_ "No."

They fell back into silence, the only noise being the rustling over the undergrowth.

Which was a bad thing.

"Damn it!" Holly cursed. "The ponies are gone."

"What? How do you know?" Ori asked.

"Wouldn't we have heard them by now?"

They pushed their way through the brush and sure enough, their camp was devoid of any of the equestrian animals. Without anyone to watch them, they had bolted.

Holly exchanged a troubled glance with Ori. They hadn't even reached the Misty Mountains yet and they had already lost their mounts.

"We have to tell Thorin!" Ori took off back towards the troll's cave.

They pushed their way through the brush and were met with the aftermath of what had probably been chaos. There were two dead wargs lying in the middle of the clearing, bleeding from arrow and axe wounds.

"We've only been gone for a few minutes…" Holly muttered.

"You are being hunted," Gandalf announced to the company.

Everyone exchanged uneasy looks. Where there were wargs, orcs were almost always nearby. Orc attacks were the primary danger of traveling in the wild, and if they were focused on a certain target, it was almost impossible to escape unharmed.

"We have to get out of here!" Dwalin said.

"We can't! The ponies are gone; they've bolted!" Ori informed the others, moving closer to the group.

There was a tense silence. It was impossible to outrun a warg, and their packs and equipment would only slow them down. Everyone looked to either Gandalf or Thorin.

"I'll draw them off," Radagast volunteered. Several eyebrows were raised.

"These are Gundabad wargs," Gandalf argued. "They will outrun you."

But Radagast had already mounted his sleigh. "These are Rhosgobel rabbits. I'd like to see them try."

The Company exchanged glances, not happy with putting their life in the wizard's hands. But they had no other option, and at Gandalf's command, they found themselves sprinting out of the forest and into a rocky field brushed with tawny shrubs.

The howling of wargs grew closer as the Company sprinted through the plain, occasionally hiding behind boulders to avoid being seen.

Before long, Holly's lungs were burning and her legs were giving an annoying reminder that she hadn't run this much in quite a long time.

"Come on! Move! Keep up!" Thorin urged the Company, already at the top of the incline they were ascending.

"Keep breathing, that's the key," Bombur encouraged, panting heavily at the back of the group.

They halted, a group of warg-mounted orcs chasing Radagast several yards ahead, allowing everyone a brief respite. Bilbo wasn't faring too well either, becoming aware that he didn't remember the last time he'd run at all.

A group of wargs narrowly passed their hiding place, and as soon as they had left, they were off again, taking advantage of the opportunity as the Wargs galloped out of sight. But one thing was clear—the meandering path Radagast made would likely collide with the Company before they could make it to safety. Holly scowled as the wizard veered sharply to the right, leading the wargs closer to them instead of further away. Was he even _trying_ to help them?

"Where are you leading us?" Thorin demanded as they were forced to hide once more. Gandalf said nothing, simply motioning for him to follow the others.

But there was only place remotely close where they could seek refuge from the orcs. Holly knew where the wizard was leading them, and Thorin had likely suspected it too. "Gandalf, no," she protested breathlessly, but he ignored her.

And they were running again.

The orc pack passed them once more on a ridge further down the field. Thorin swore in Khudzul and motioned for everyone to hide behind a large boulder. Amidst a chorus of heavy breathing, they could hear the snarl of a warg from the top of the boulder they were hiding behind. Their luck had to run out eventually.

Thorin signalled for Kili to dispatch the warg. The young dwarf nocked an arrow, leapt forward, and shot.

It let out a roar of pain. Kili cringed. He'd aimed wrong and shot the beast in the shoulder instead of the throat. He fired another at its rider, but again it missed, sinking into the orc's ribcage. The warg charged down the rock face, its roars echoing throughout the plain. Both enemies were slain by Dwalin, Bifur, and Thorin, but the damage had already been done. The Company could already hear the other wargs closing in on them.

"Move! Run!" Gandalf cried, compelling them to flee yet again.

_I am going to die here_, Holly realized. There was no way they would be able to reach Rivendell before the wargs overtook them.

"There they are!" Gloin pointed. The orcs had already managed to circle around in front of them.

_Well, this doesn't look like a quick death._

"This way! Quickly!" Gandalf motioned for them to move to the right, as though they still had a chance of survival.

"We're surrounded!" Fili shouted.

"Hold your ground!" Thorin commanded, drawing his sword.

_Well, this is it._ Holly drew her dagger, though she would probably be killed before she could use it. A loud growl sent shivers down her spine, and she realized too late where it had originated. To her right, a warg had snuck up on her. Its orc rider dismounted and drew a nasty-looking machete.

Its cruel sneer froze her in place. She couldn't even call for help.

_And there goes my head_, she thought just as Thorin stepped around her and stabbed the orc in the gut.

He glanced at her. "See? Perfectly capable of defending ourselves."

She was still trying to muster a reply when Dori grabbed her arm and half dragged her over to a rock face where Gandalf stood.

"This way, you fools!" The gray wizard waved his staff and disappeared into a crevice in the rocks.

The crevice dipped down into a fairly spacious cave. Holly practically fell down the steep incline and landed roughly at the bottom. She scrambled out of the way to make room for the others, who were coming down as well. She let Nori help her to her feet, feeling dazed and a bit embarrassed that she'd frozen up at such a crucial moment.

Fili, Kili, and Thorin were the last to arrive in the cave, where they all stopped and listened to the sound of horns. There was the hiss of arrows and the thunder of hoofbeats, accompanied by sounds of rage and pain from the wargs. An orc tumbled down the crevice, forcing the dwarves in the front of the group to scramble back. It stared at them with dull eyes, an arrow embedded in its neck.

And everything was silent.

**I try so hard to take Radagast seriously, I swear. Ok maybe I don't. He's still a pretty cool guy, though.**

**And poor Ori, trying to be nice to Holly, and she's being...well, herself. :E Let's see how long that lasts.**

**So this chapter was mainly narrative besides Thorin getting the last word among other things, but next chapter, they're going to Rivendell and some very interesting information is exposed about Holly...**

**Leave a comment if you have anything to say (did anyone catch that LOTR reference?), it helps me out a lot, and remember to stay tuned for the next chapter! :)**


	5. The Statement of the Problem

**Chapter 5**

Thorin stepped forward and pried the arrow from the orc's neck. He threw it down with a scowl, apparently recognizing the craftsmanship. "_Elves_."

"I cannot see where the path leads," Dwalin called from the back of the cave—or rather, tunnel. "Do we follow it or not?"

"Follow it, of course!" Bofur responded. None of the dwarves were eager to see if the elves were still present up in the field.

They maneuvered their way through the narrow, rocky passage. Sunlight fell in shafts from where the tunnel ceiling opened up. Soon, they could hear the sound of water running, and the passage opened into a large valley.

Bilbo gave a small, "Oh," at the same time that Holly let out a curse. The others stared at the full trees, flowing waterfalls, and pristine architecture of Rivendell.

"The Valley of Imladris," Gandalf announced. "Known by another name in the common tongue."

"Rivendell," Bilbo supplied.

"I'd no idea these beardless gits lived somewhere other than in the trees," Gloin muttered.

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing?" Thorin snapped to Gandalf. "They will try to stop us."

"Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered. If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact, respect, and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me." Gandalf sent a pointed look at Holly. She rolled her eyes in response.

The Company trudged down the cliffside and over a stone walkway that led to a small courtyard. Bilbo was ogling at his surroundings with undisguised wonder, but most of the dwarves kept their eyes fixed ahead of them, unwilling to show any sort of appreciation for what they most likely considered enemy territory.

"Mithrandir!" Everyone turned to the source of the voice. A dark-haired elf descended one of the stairs leading into the courtyard, extending a hand in greeting.

"Ah! Lindir!" Gandalf greeted. The dwarves stared inimically at the newcomer.

Holly recognized the elf. She'd seen him a few times during her previous stay and hoped he did not recognize her.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," Gandalf continued.

"My Lord Elrond is not here."

Perhaps luck was actually on her side. If they managed to leave Rivendell before Elrond returned…

"Not returned?" Gandalf inquired. "Where is he?"

The same horns they had heard back in the cave sounded, accompanied by the crescendo of approaching hoofbeats.

No, of course she couldn't be that lucky.

"Ifridî bekâr!" Thorin shouted, as the dwarves began to condense into a tighter group. "Close ranks!"

Holly let herself be pulled into the middle of the group. Maybe she could hide from the elves for the entirety of their stay. It wasn't too late to run, was it?

The mounted elves began to ride in circles around their group, causing some of them to growl and brandish their weapons. They finally halted and one of their number dismounted, greeting Gandalf as he did so.

"Lord Elrond!" Gandalf replied. Holly ducked her head a little.

"Mellonnin! Mo evíedh?" Gandalf replied.

"Farannem 'lamhoth i udul o charad. Dagannem rim na Iant Vedui.".

"What are they saying?" Dori hissed.

"They were the ones hunting the orcs that were chasing us," Holly summarized softly.

"It is strange for orcs to come so close to our borders," Elrond stated, switching effortlessly to Westron. "Something, or someone, has drawn them near."

"Ah, that may have been us," Gandalf admitted with the appropriate amount of sheepishness.

The two turned their focus to the glowering group in the middle of the courtyard. Thorin stepped forward, faithfully flanked by Dwalin and Nori.

"Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain," Elrond acknowledge him, his expression neutral.

"I do not believe we have met," Thorin retorted in lieu of a greeting.

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew him when he ruled under the mountain."  
"He made no mention of you." Thorin was apparently intent on burning every bridge of goodwill that Elrond extended to him. Holly could almost smell the smoke.

Elrond stared at Thorin for a moment, then spoke, "Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor. Boe i annam vann a nethail vin."

"What is he saying?" Gloin growled, stepping forward. "Does he offer us insult?!" Holly was torn between rolling her eyes and laughing. The others cried in outrage, moving forward as well.

"No, Master Gloin, he is offering you food," Gandalf supplied before a full-on brawl could commence.

The dwarves retreated back into a huddle, and after a quick discussion, Gloin replied in a more civil tone, "Ah, well...in that case, lead on."

As they were led to the dining area, Elrond cast Holly a knowing glance, but said nothing, for which she was grateful.

Not to say she wasn't dreading the conversation that was sure to follow.

…

Dinner at Rivendell was considerably more refined than the party at Bag End. That came as a surprise to Holly. Given the apparent grudge between dwarf and elf, she had expected purposeful antagonization from the former.

Most likely everyone was simply tired from their lack of sleep the previous night. Bilbo looked as if he was going to fall asleep right into his dinner. Holly felt similarly exhausted. The dwarves seemed to be holding up all right, being a hardy race.

"Where's the meat?" Dwalin grumbled, studying a fistful of the various greens they'd been served. Oin stared in confusion at an onion impaled on his butter knife. Holly wondered if these dwarves even knew what vegetables were.

Next to her, Kili was paying little heed to his food, his attention focused on one of the elven musicians on the other side of the pavilions. He only broke his stare when he noticed Dwalin glaring at him from across the table

"I can't say I fancy elf maids myself," Kili announced to the group, trying to act like he hadn't been flirting with the elven woman. "Too thin. They're all high cheekbones and creamy skin. Not enough facial hair for me." Bofur nodded in agreement. "Although…" Kili gestured to an elf behind him. "That one there's not bad."

Holly glanced at Kili's goblet. Was something in the wine making him see things?

Dwalin leaned forward and informed him, "That's not an elf maid."

Kili did a double take as everyone howled with laughter. Realization dawned and he stared at Dwalin with wide eyes. "An honest mistake!" he protested as Bofur elbowed him with a grin.

"What about you, Miss Holly?" Bofur questioned, leaning around Kili so he could talk to the young woman. "You see any attractive elves here? Elf men, I mean." That last comment earned a chuckle from the others at their table.

She frowned. "Who do I find attractive? That's not really…my area." Bofur and the others stared, confused by her answer. "I mean, what would it matter if I did find one of them attractive?" she tried to clarify.

"Okay, then," Bofur finally said. "Fair enough."  
Holly turned back to her dinner. Clearly, none of the dwarves understood what she had said. They probably thought she was odd.

She watched Nori slip a silver fork from the table and into his coat. He noticed her staring and winked. And she was apparently the odd one…

"Change the tune, why don't you?" Nori complained to one of the harpists. "I feel like I'm at a funeral!"  
"Did somebody die?" Oin asked. Somehow a napkin had found its way into his ear trumpet.

"All right, lads, there's only one thing for it!" Bofur chimed in, rising from his seat. With a loud clatter, he climbed up onto a pedestal in the middle of the pavilion. The elves stopped playing their instruments, startled, as he began to sing:

_There's an inn, there's an inn,_

_there's a merry old inn_

_Beneath the old gray hill_

_And there they brew a beer so brown_

_The man on the moon himself came down_

_One night to drink his fill_

The other dwarves whooped and joined in, banging the table in time to the song.

_Oh, the ostler has a tipsy cat_

that plays a five-stringed fiddle;

And up and down he runs his bow,

Now squeaking high, now purring low,

Now sawing in the middle.

Inevitably, food became airborne, eliciting several disturbed glares from the elves.

Holly dropped her gaze back to her plate. _Definitely_, she was the odd one of the group.

…

Lord Elrond of Rivendell was a skillful warrior, one of the wisest elves in Middle Earth, and the guardian of the Last Homely House east of the sea.

So naturally, the first thing Holly said to him was, "All right, I apologize for running away, but I don't…I don't exactly want to die yet."

"My intention was never to kill you, Holly. But I fear your…condition could have dire consequences for all of Middle Earth."

"I'm sure," Holly responded dryly.

"Gandalf and I are here to help you. And if you will please explain your situation to him, we may be able to come up with a more...agreeable solution." More agreeable than being forced to sneak out in the middle of the night like last time? Perhaps.

Holly took a deep breath, glancing at the wizard.

"You've put this off long enough," Elrond pressed.

Which must have been why they were having this discussion at such an unreasonable hour of the night.

"Fine. I…strange things had been happening about a year ago, when I was living in Gondor...Actually, it had started before that—"

"What sort of strange things?" Gandalf interrupted.

"Nightmares," Holly answered shortly, unwilling to elaborate. "So I ended up going to Rivendell to seek advice. And Elrond said I had a…ah…" She found that she could not complete the sentence. She struggled for words, cheeks flushing. It wasn't as if she was _emotional_, she was never emotional…

"There is a dark power inside her, Gandalf," Elrond continued, rescuing her from further turmoil. "It appears to be some form of dark magic, the kind used by mages. Though I have not seen a mage in a very long time, nor have I seen such dangerous and powerful magic."

"I have sensed it too," the wizard said. That was new information, as well as a plausible explanation as for why he'd had her join the Company in the first place.

"It does not appear that she can access it in any way. It is almost as if she is… containing it."  
"Is there any way to get rid of it?" Gandalf asked. Holly sighed. She already knew the answer to this one.

"It is…linked to her soul," Elrond explained. "If we were to find a way to destroy it, she would not survive the process."

Gandalf considered Holly, his gaze softening. She averted her eyes. She didn't need the wizard's pity. He averted his eyes back to Elrond. "I am willing to keep an eye on her situation while I help Thorin's Company on their journey."

The elf raised an eyebrow. "She is going with them to reclaim Erebor?"

So they'd already discussed the true nature of their quest. Holly wondered if Elrond had agreed to help them read Thorin's map.

Gandalf gave a pointed look. "I feel that she may also tie in with what their goal is."

Elrond nodded, clearly trusting the wizard's intuition. Holly wasn't so sure. "Very well. But if anything goes wrong…" He reached into his robes and withdrew a vial full of milky liquid and handed it to Holly. "It will be quick."

She took the vial, focusing on keeping her hand steady. "...Thank you."

Without another word, she pocketed the object and walked off of the balcony area where they'd been talking, filled with the utter surety that she would not be drinking out of that vial any time in the future.

**Exposition! Wow! Seems like Holly isn't as innocent as we thought. What do you guys think about this whole 'dark power' thing? Could it possibly have something to do with the Necromancer? Or is it something else...? And will Holly have to use the vial in the future?**

**Next chapter will focus a bit more on relationships and people, along with a big change for how Holly interacts with the Company.**

**Thanks so much for all the support I've received so far! Feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you think; it helps me out a lot!**


	6. Idiots

**Chapter 6: Idiots**

Perhaps if she hadn't been so exhausted, she might have stayed up all night thinking, Holly mused as she rounded the corner of one of the hallways of Rivendell. She pulled her coat tighter around her body, her right pocket feeling heavier than usual.

Elrond had said her condition had some sort of connection to the fate of Middle Earth. That hadn't bothered her. What had really made her stomach drop was the way he had looked at her as if he expected her to do something about it. Did he expect her to..._sacrifice_ something to save Middle Earth?

No. She would not sacrifice herself for the faceless masses that had done nothing for her, even if it meant watching them burn. And when she searched her memories for a specific person worth saving, all that came to mind was a tombstone.

Another issue plagued her mind as well—now that she knew why Gandalf wanted her on the quest, all that was left to resolve was her own motives for traveling with fourteen strangers to reclaim a lost homeland. She didn't care about gold, or glory, or friendship—all three had a tendency to get one stabbed in the back eventually.

She was just bored, Holly decided. And participating in this impossible journey gave her something to do other than wander around Middle Earth.

Holly spotted Bilbo coming down the hallway, heading in the opposite direction. As she passed him, she reached out to take hold of his arm.

"Not that way." He must have still been irritated at her after the troll incident, but she wanted do him a favor anyway. Inexplicably.

"What? Why?" he asked, tugging his arm out of her grasp. The hobbit stared at her, eyebrows drawn together.

"The dwarves are…taking a bath. In the fountain. I reckon you wouldn't want to see that." She had not been so fortunate.

"Not that way, then." He cleared his throat. "Um...do you know where the library is, by any chance?"

Holly nodded. "I was heading there myself. This way."

Bilbo hesitated for a moment, then followed her.

Holly frowned inwardly and mentally berated herself as they walked. She had wanted to do him a _favor_? Next she would be having tea with him. Perhaps it was just his wide blue eyes combined with his near-constant expression of awe and confusion. She was just taking pity on him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Bilbo said as they crossed a stone bridge next to a cascading waterfall.

Holly looked up, shaken from her thoughts, and followed his gaze. "Water and rocks. How extraordinary." She cast a desultory glance at their surroundings.

Bilbo turned, squinting at her through the sunlight. "You are...very strange."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Oh, is that the best you can do?"

"I-I didn't mean that as an insult."

"Oh, I'm sure you meant _strange_ in a nice way," she replied with biting sarcasm. "If you're going to say things like that, you could at least own up to it."

"Well, maybe if you weren't so...so surly all the time, people wouldn't say things like that to you."

Holly gave a cold smile. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Bilbo gave a small huff. "Look, I wasn't trying to insult you."

"We're here," Holly announced, cutting across whatever he had been about to say. She opened a set of impressive double doors, revealing a large room lined floor to ceiling with shelves of tomes, some of which were probably older than Rivendell itself. An elegant staircase led up to a partial second floor, where more books were stored.

Holly snuck a glance at Bilbo as he followed her in, eyes widening in wonder. This was likely his first time seeing so many books in one place. She watched his eyes flit over to the window, out over the sunlit trees, and a ghost of longing tinged with a bit of pain passed over his face.

_Homesick_, she realized. Holly shrugged and strode over to one of the shelves. She began scanning the dim bindings, muttering under her breath.

"Ah."

She extracted a volume from the shelf and studied their covers. _Daegûl_. And underneath, in Westron, _Shadow Sorcery_.

"Interesting…reading choice," Bilbo said from behind her.

"Yes. I'm studying to be a necromancer," Holly replied, turning to face him. "...It was a joke," she added at his baffled expression. "You can laugh."

"Um. All right." The hobbit knit his eyebrows together. In fairness, they had been arguing mere moments ago, but she wasn't in the mood to address that further.

And now she was making jokes. Holly felt ridiculous. She didn't want to give Bilbo any ideas about being _friendly_. Holly wasn't a _friendly_ person. She was aloof at best.

So why on earth did she feel the need to make _jokes_?

…..

Holly had done research before. She used to spend hours in the library at Gondor to find a certain fact or bit of knowledge that would help her with whatever task occupying her mind at the moment. At times she went simply because she enjoyed reading.

But never before had her life depended on it. Holly had to admit, that added a bit of an edge to her search for answers. It also added quite a bit of frustration. She'd scoured the entire first floor of books and had moved on to the second floor a little over an hour ago. It was unlikely that she would find anything at all—the second floor consisted of legends and history. She needed information on dark magic and preferably how to get rid of it.

"What you seek, you will not find here."

Holly turned around, startled. She hadn't heard anyone come up from behind.

The newcomer, an elven woman, stood a few feet away. Holly scrutinized her, taking in the elf's fair hair and blue eyes. She had a remarkable aura of wisdom and power, even for an elf. Of course, that didn't mean she actually knew anything.

"What makes you say that?"

The elf offered a knowing smile. "Do you not think Lord Elrond has sought information here was well?"

Of course he had. And of course he would know where to look if there was any information to be had seeing as this was his library. There was no use pretending that he might have missed something. No, the real reason she was still searching was because making some form of effort made her feel less...afraid.

"Perhaps I should sit around and do nothing, then?" Holly said with mock politeness. Who was this elf, anyway, and who had told her about her circumstance?

"Do not let the future worry you. The answers you seek will come in time."

"I'm sure they will. I appreciate the cryptic advice." The elf appeared unfazed by her sarcasm, so Holly turned back to the bookshelf. "Is that all?"

"Your life will be in grave danger."

Holly paused and turned back around. Normally she would have ignored such speculation, but the elf had a tone of conviction that made her hesitate.

"You will have to make a choice when all hope has abandoned you. And your decision will have powerful consequences."

"Why are you telling me this?" Holly asked, her mouth dry.

The elf gave her a soft, encouraging smile. "I only ask you to remember that it is at our lowest point when we see things most clearly."

_Good, more cryptic advice._ "I'll keep that in mind," Holly replied in a tone that implied otherwise. Then she turned and left the library, books forgotten.

That had unsettled her far more than she wanted to admit, Holly mused as she walked back to her room. If Elrond and Gandalf trusted the elf enough to tell her about the dark magic, then her words must have some credibility. Though her ability to predict the future was another matter. It had to be mere speculation, she concluded. Nothing more. She didn't plan on making any decisions with powerful consequences in the future.

In one of the courtyards further ahead, Holly could see Ori and Bofur sparring. As she drew near, they paused and Ori waved at her.

"Oi, lass!" Bofur said. "Want me to show you how to use a sword?"

She wasn't in the mood for their teasing. "I think I'll pass," she replied, not breaking her stride. "I don't have nearly enough patience right now for playing with swords."

…..

"Holly. Holly, wake up."

Holly shifted onto her back, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Someone was leaning over her...Nori, if the star-shaped hair gave her any indication. She propped herself up on one elbow to let him know she had woken and could he please stop shaking her shoulder.

"Time is it?" She rubbed the heel of her hand into one eye, then the other.

"Do you really want to know?"

She gave a "Hm," in lieu of a reply and sat up. "What's going on?"

"We're leaving Rivendell now. We have to go quietly or the elves will try to stop us."

"All right. Give me a minute."

As soon as Nori had left, shutting the door behind him, Holly put her face in her hands, still trying to clear sleep and worry from her head. She felt nothing but relieved that they were leaving. Rivendell was a constant reminder of her...predicament, which she still hadn't found a solution to.

And once she left Rivendell, chances were no one else would be able to offer any sort of guidance.

She slung her coat on and grabbed her pack, heading for the door. The others were waiting outside, speaking in low voices.

"Cold as stone, that one."

"At least stone doesn't glare at people."

Several of the dwarves chuckled at that, but when Holly rounded the corner they fell silent. Because they'd been talking about her.

She straightened her shoulders, sliding behind an impassive mask. "I'm ready to leave when the rest of you are."

Balin looked around, counting the members of the group. "We're one short. Where's Bilbo?"

"Still sleeping, probably."

There was a collective grumble and someone was sent to wake up the hobbit.

Holly leaned against the balcony railing, watching a small stream trickle through a flowerbed. The water dimmed as a cloud passed over the moon. She hadn't expected anything less. She was used to people talking about her like that. _Though, 'cold as stone' is a new one. Perhaps I should write that one down._

It didn't bother her. In fact, the dwarves finally seemed to be showing signs of leaving her alone. And that was what she wanted, really.

Wasn't it?

"Holly?"

She turned around. It was Balin, standing there with a smile far too benevolent for her own comfort.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Why?"

"Well, we were attacked by orcs a couple of days ago, and I imagine the event must have been...stressful for you." The polite smile never left his face as he spoke.

"You imagined wrong, then. It's going to take more than a bit of blood to bother me." Holly tilted her head, scrutinizing the elderly dwarf. "Thorin tasked you with attempting to convince me to stay behind, didn't he?" Balin didn't answer right away. _Ah. Guilty._ "Well, I must ask that you refrain from doing so in the future since I find the attempt irritating and I appreciate your failure even less."

Several of the dwarves had overheard this exchange and she saw them exchange glances. Without waiting for a reply from Balin, Holly turned away and moved farther off from the group. She felt the telltale prickle of irritation, which was to be expected, but beyond that there was another tingling sensation in the back of her mind, something unfamiliar and entirely unwelcome as far as she was concerned.

Holly dismissed the feeling and averted her eyes as the faintest hints of dawn appeared on the horizon.

….

Barely a week in the wilds had passed and morale had already plummeted. They now had a deadline to reach Erebor—the door would only open on Durin's Day. By Balin's calculations, they had less than four months to meet that requirement. This put an ever-present tension in the air, and they'd begun sacrificing more and more sleep to make time for traveling.

And there was also the matter of the boulders.

Large chunks of rock often tumbled down the mountainside, set loose by wind and rain, forcing the Company on their toes at all times to keep from getting crushed. They also had to be meticulous about which spots to sleep in, to make sure everyone woke up in the morning.

They ended up getting lost more than once, though Balin did his best to navigate through the winding paths. The only person who knew the land better than Balin was Gandalf, but the wizard hadn't departed Rivendell with them, saying he had 'other matters to attend'.

A few days' journey from Rivendell, the worn path they had traversed split into two. A muddy trail to the left ran on even ground beside a cliff and disappeared behind a large cluster of boulders. The one on the right curved upwards into a dip between two hills, and would no doubt be a slippery ordeal after the rain earlier that day.

Balin consulted his map. "We should take the northern route. That will save us at least half a day's travel."

"No." Holly stepped up beside the elderly dwarf, studying the two muddy paths. "We'll need to take the other one."

"What makes you say that?" Balin turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, look at the paths." Holly gestured to the ground before them. "Do you see it? I'm assuming you don't."

"What are we meant to be seeing?" Thorin said striding to stand next to her.

"The _path_. Look at the tracks in the mud. There are footsteps and imprints from a wagon. See, they're slightly smeared from the rain."

"Your point? We are not the only travelers on these roads."

"There are footprints leading in the opposite direction too. They came later, after the rain, since they're deeper and they had to walk through the mud. They're of approximately the same size and number, so it's safe to assume that they belong to the same group that passed through earlier. However, there is no trace of the wagon making the return journey with them, which leads me to believe that the travelers lost their wagon due to the weather making the path unsafe. More likely than not it's at the bottom of the cliff right now." She turned and fixed Thorin with a cool stare. "Whether or not you're willing to risk that is up to you. I just thought I'd point out the painfully obvious."

Thorin held her gaze, features stiff with irritation (and it might have been a trick of the light, but he looked a bit impressed as well). "We'll take the southern path, then." It was impressive how he could say one thing, and convey an entirely different message with his tone. He seemed to be giving her something between a warning and a challenge.

Holly flicked a satisfied smile back at him, then moved past to continue on the muddy road.

…

On their sixth day in the wilds, everyone in the Company awoke in a rotten mood. A thick mist blanketed the mountainside, thickening their blood and lowering their spirits.

When they finally stopped to rest, everyone was scowling and grumbling about the late hour and lack of food.

Their small supper did nothing to improve the overall temper. Only Fili and Kili seemed to have recovered their usually cheerful mood.

After they ate the Company sat around, smoking and trying to shake off the general dysphoria long enough to fall asleep.

Holly fiddled with the straps of her pack, feeling restless. She couldn't seem to shake the tension reverberating throughout her body. The events at Rivendell still weighed on her mind, leaving her stressed and frustrated.

"Oi, Holly!" Kili called out from across their small campsite.

"Yes?" she replied with a stiff jaw. _What an ideal time to start a conversation. No doubt this will be a waste of my attention._

"Why don't you wear trousers like the rest of us? Surely it must be harder to walk in that dress of yours." He added something in a quieter tone to his brother. They exchanged smirks.

It didn't even occur to Holly at that moment that it was normal for dwarvish women to wear trousers. Seeing as she was traveling with several dwarves, it wasn't really that insensible of a question.

"I'm a _woman_," she replied, her voice slicing across the campsite like a razor. "Women don't wear trousers. Idiots." Holly let that last word escape without a second thought. Which would have been fine, except everyone heard her. A long silence followed.

"Stop it. Just stop it."

Everyone turned to face Ori, who had gotten to his feet and was glaring at Holly.

"There's no need for you to be so rude. All of us have had a very long day and we're all in a bad mood but you _constantly_ act as though we are not worth your time! And we're not, by the way—_you_ should be nicer to all of _us_. And you can start by apologizing to Fili and Kili!"

A stunned silence followed his angry speech. Holly could only stare as Ori gave her an insistent glare. No one had expected docile, sweater-wearing, slingshot-wielding Ori to deliver this outburst. But then she thought back to all the times he had tried to make conversation with her. She had brushed him off without a thought...perhaps his actions were not so unexpected. She cleared her throat and turned back to Fili and Kili.

"Um. I…sorry about that." She felt a faint flush in her cheeks. This conversation had taken an unexpected turn.

Kili waved her off, surprised that she'd bothered to apologize at all. "S'alright."

Ori, satisfied with this exchange, nodded and sat back down.

Holly sat as well shame igniting on her cheeks.

_Well_.

Had Ori been right to have said all of that? She didn't want to think of the implications if he had. Up until a few minutes ago, she'd been so sure of herself, of where she stood compared to others. No one had actually stood up to her like that before.

Did they really expect her to be...nice? And if they did, she had no idea if she was capable of such a thing.

Regardless, she would find out soon enough.

**Heh, this was an awkward scene to write. But I really appreciate all the support I've been getting, especially the constructive criticism. Keep doing your thing, reviewers!**


	7. A Case of Identity

**Chapter 8**

"_The eye sees not itself_

_But by reflection, by some other things."_

—_Shakespeare; __Julius Caesar_

After the incident—it couldn't really be called a fight—with Ori, Holly did try to be nicer to the others. It was an experiment, she told herself, just to see what would happen.

At first her politeness was treated with mild surprise, but that was the extent of the Company's reactions. She still kept mostly to herself. There were a few dwarves in the Company with whom she had not spoken to at all.

Everyone also gained the valuable knowledge that Holly should not be allowed to cook, ever. One night, she'd volunteered, which had led to the Eyeball Incident that nobody was willing to talk about.

After another week of traveling, the shadow of the Misty Mountains loomed behind the fog, finally visible. It was rather inspiring, the sight assuring them that they really had been making progress.

When they set up camp that night, Thorin assigned Holly to the second watch with Bilbo. Holly despised taking second watch. It meant that her sleep was split into two parts, and she'd have to make twice the effort to fall asleep and wake up again.

The sky was alight with stars when Bifur shook her awake. Holly settled herself against a boulder and stared down the hillside. She could already tell that this was going to be a boring night.

Bilbo groggily shuffled to where Holly was sitting and made himself comfortable next to her. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the crickets and the hollow wind.

"Carnil is looking especially bright tonight," the hobbit finally said. He didn't know why he was still trying to make conversation with her. Perhaps he was still trying to figure her out. It was just something to pass the time.

Holly looked over at him, eyebrows raised in mild confusion. "Who?"

Bilbo pointed at the sky. "Carnil. You know...the star."

She looked up. "Oh. They have names?"

He was silent for a moment, trying to process what she'd just said. "...Of course they have names. Didn't you…Didn't you learn about that sort of thing when you were a child?" Know-it-all Miss Holly didn't know the names of the stars?

Holly shrugged. "Maybe. I probably got rid of it."

"Got rid of what?"

"The names of the stars. I forgot about it."

"Wha—_Why_?"

"I didn't need the information," she replied shortly.

"But—" Bilbo spluttered. "It's—It's something that everyone just _knows_!"

She huffed and turned to face him. "But why should I care?" she argued impatiently. "Those stars could be named after foods, after bugs, they could have no names at all—it wouldn't make any difference! I only remember the _truly_ important things; elsewise my head gets all cluttered."

Bilbo looked up at the stars, then back at Holly, dumbfounded.

"_Maybe_ I'll start worrying about the names of these stars once someone flies up and visits them, or something," she continued. "Maybe we can, I dunno, use their light for something." Her face lit up with some sort of inspiration as well as the starlight.

The hobbit laughed weakly. "That's crazy."

"Crazy or genius, depends on if it works," she quipped, the light fading from her face.

There was a long silence.

"I think...enigma," Bilbo finally said.

"You what?"

"I take back what I said about you being strange. I believe enigma is the better word."

"Enigma…" Holly mused. Then she gave a small smile. Her face changed when she smiled, some of its sharp angles softening. "Not bad."

…

The next morning was so incredibly foggy that visibility was down to mere feet. The Company stumbled around, clearing their camp and muttering to each other just to make sure everyone was there.

Once Holly had packed up she turned to walk in the general direction of the rest of the Company and stumbled over someone's pack. The impact made a clattering sound that was distinctly _unlike_ the sound of supplies normally taken on a journey. Holly cursed softly as Nori appeared from the fog and picked up the pack.

"Sorry, lass. That's mine."

"Obvio—I'm—It's all right. I should have seen where I was going," she replied civilly, remembering her manners.

"Not like you can see anything in this mess," the ginger dwarf commented, squinting through the gloom.

"Yeah…" Holly mumbled, gaze flitting over the vague shapes of the other dwarves through the fog, suddenly finding eye contact very hard to make.

"Hey, Holly." Nori elbowed her gently, causing her to look up. "I tried to grab the fog this morning...I mist."

She gave a half-exasperated laugh. "_What_?"

"I stayed up all night wondering where the sun went. Then it dawned on me."

Holly glanced up at the completely obscured sky. "...Not really."

There was a brief silence and then Nori said, "Would you like to hear some more?"

"Only if you tell me what you've got hidden in your pack," she bargained. After all, his jokes weren't _that_ bad.

"We'll see," was his only reply.

As the day wore on, Holly decided that Nori was perhaps the most tolerable of the members of the Company. He was rather clever and witty, and she almost enjoyed his bad puns. And it didn't hurt that he voluntarily talked to her.

That night, when they set up camp, Nori beckoned her over to where he had set up his bedroll.

After glancing around at the others to make sure they weren't in earshot, he opened his pack. "So, while I was in Rivendell, I did some...exploring...and it turns out that elves make almost _everything_ out of gold and silver." He pulled out an ornate silver ladle.

Holly peered inside the bag. There was an assortment of kitchen utensils, goblets, and—was that a part of a chandelier peeking out? "You're a thief," she stated. She'd guessed it before, and now there was no doubt.

He simply winked at her. _Again._ "Takes one to know one."

"I'm not a thief!"

"But you could be one. I think you're clever enough."

Holly felt her cheeks grow hot. "I-If you say so."

"It just takes some practice," Nori continued, gathering his loot back into his bag.

"Do you practice on us?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Of course not! I would never steal from my friends. It's a funny story, really, how I got into the business. There I was, just enjoying a couple of ales—"

"Wait. Hold on. You said 'friends'...?"

Nori nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course, Holly. You're my friend."

After a few minutes of silence he said, "Is something wrong?"

"What are you two doing over there?" came Dori's cross voice. "Don't tell me you're trying to set up some sort of deal with Miss Holly!" Clearly Nori's older brother did not approve of his criminal activities.

"We're talking, obviously!" Nori called back. "What does it take for a dwarf to have an uninterrupted conversation around here, eh?"

"I should...probably get some rest, anyways." Holly quickly stood up. "Um...talk to you later."

Her heart was beating unnaturally fast. _Friend_. He actually considered her a _friend_. And he'd even said it out loud. What was she even supposed to say to that?

Was Nori her friend?

Holly decided to put it out of her mind—she didn't fancy considering all the troubles that would make themselves known if the answer to that question was yes.

**Happy BOFA trailer one week and one day anniversary! I finally stopped crying over it!**

**Anyways, expect a new update pretty soon, seeing as I'm almost done with Ch. 9.**

**Thank you for all the support y'all give me and feel free to leave a review, it helps me out a lot!**


	8. The Thunder Battle

**Chapter 9**

"_What are men to rocks and mountains?"_

—_Jane Austen; __Pride and Prejudice_

_The ants clambered in a scattered queue up the side of the wall, carrying bits of food and larvae with them._

"_Oi, watch this!" The young boy seized a bucket of water and tossed the contents onto the ants, washing all of them from the wall and leaving only droplets behind…_

Holly was shaken from a childhood memory by yet another roar of thunder. She was beginning to sympathize with those long-dead ants—it was hard not to when one was clinging to the side of a cliff, soaked with rain and being constantly shook by tremors of thunder.

There was another problem, too.

When they had entered the High Pass earlier that day, Holly had noticed how the walls of the pass were jagged, which was not right—since the pass had been around since the First Age, the walls should have been worn smooth. But the fact wasn't a pressing issue, so Holly said nothing. In fact, she was rather grateful for the craggy surface, as it provided good handholds along the slippery path.

She heard Bilbo cry out and saw him nearly tumble off the ledge. Dwalin managed to pull him back at the last second.

_That hobbit is going to get himself killed._ Holly sighed and struggled onwards.

"We must find shelter!" Thorin bellowed from the front of the line.

_How utterly brilliant. Where on Earth would we be without Thorin Oakenshield?_

"Watch out!" Dwalin yelled.

_Oh, what is it n-_ Holly found herself unable to complete her train of thought as she looked up. There was a low whistling noise as a boulder the size of a house hurtled through the fog and collided with the cliff face above them, shattering upon impact. Everyone ducked against the rock wall to avoid the sizable chunks of rock raining down on them. Holly heard a grunt of pain as someone was struck by a rock.

"This is no thunderstorm!" Balin cried. "It's a thunder battle! Look!"

All eyes turned to where Balin was pointing. Holly cursed rather loudly as a vaguely humanoid figure made of stone emerged from the mountainside.

"Well bless me! The legends are true—giants! Stone giants!" Bofur shouted over a loud creaking as the giant stood up and picked up a boulder.

Holly decided this was one of the strangest—and possibly worst—things that had happened to her, ever. And she was beginning to feel more like an ant than ever as the giant hurled a boulder over their heads, which collided with the emerging figure of yet _another_ giant.

There was a terrible lurching feeling—the ledge on which they were standing was beginning to _move_. She heard Fili shout and looked up to see the cliff splitting in half, separating the Company. Holly didn't see any more after that, too busy squeezing her eyes shut and meditating on a constant mantra of _IamgoingtodieIamgoingtodieIamgoingtodie._ The lurching feeling intensified and she gripped the rock face until her hands stung. She barely noticed Dori's steadying hand on her arm, making sure she didn't fall.

The cliff tilted to an almost dangerous angle, and just when Holly thought she would really fall to her death their little piece of cliff came to a halt, throwing her off balance.

"Come on, lass! Let's move it!" Dori tugged her along the broken path and she was forced to open her eyes to see where she was going. Her half of the Company stumbled off the moving ledge and onto solid ground.

Now that her eyes were open she saw that they'd been standing on the knees of a _third_ stone giant, and the others were still standing on its other leg.

As the thunder battle raged on overhead, the third giant was brutally decapitated by a boulder, its head shattering and raining down on the members clinging to the cliff face. Several dwarves cried out as they were struck by the rocks. Holly wasn't sure whether she was more bruised or cut up from the incessant onslaught of stones.

The beheaded giant staggered, the pale, terrified faces of the others flashing past as the giant lurched against the rock face. They could only watch in horror as its knees smashed against the stone before its limp body tumbled into the abyss.

"Nooo!" Thorin cried. He raced towards the site of impact, calling for his eldest nephew. "_Fili_!"

Holly finally regained use of her legs and followed the others, feeling rather hollow inside. She didn't want to see what had happened...if they were dead…

It was with a surprising amount of relief that she registered the grumbling and groaning of her companions. As she rounded the corner, she saw that they were quite all right, if a little bruised.

Everyone gave relieved laughs and exchanged hugs. Holly ignored them, making sure she was as far away from the edge of the cliff as possible.

"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur's panicked voice shattered the euphoria.

After a brief but frantic search, Ori yelled, "There!" and dove towards the edge of the cliff, of all places. Bofur joined him in trying to pull Bilbo back up, and Thorin actually swung down over the cliff to help the hobbit. Holly stayed standing long enough to make sure that neither of them were in danger of falling before slumping to the ground and trying to quell her shaking.

_Shaking, really? Pathetic._

"I thought we'd lost our burglar," Dwalin heaved out in relief, helping Thorin regain his footing.

"He's been lost ever since he left home," Thorin said bitterly. "He has no place amongst us. He should never have come."

_A bit too late for that now._ Holly watched the dwarf as he stalked away. Then she heaved herself to her feet and followed the others into what looked like a cave.

….

Bilbo shuffled into the cave along with the rest of the Company. He set up his bedroll, ignoring their hushed arguments about starting fires and waiting for Gandalf and such.

_He has no place amongst us. _

_He should never have come._

Thorin's words stung Bilbo more than he cared to admit. Back home, he'd always been well-liked, respectable. Then he'd gone on this bloody adventure and respect suddenly seemed like a very foreign concept. Most of the dwarves tolerated him at best, and Holly didn't even seem like the type of person to show any sort of affection or liking.

And there was also the fact that he felt utterly _useless_. What had he done since the start of the journey? Made a fuss about his handkerchief, gotten kidnapped by trolls, and nearly fallen off a cliff. He hadn't been able to help at all during their battle with the orcs.

He was shaken from his reverie as Bofur flopped down next to him.

"How're you holdin' up, lad?" the dwarf asked quietly.

"Fine. I'm fine," Bilbo said to the ground.

"I wouldn't mind what Thorin said to you earlier. He just gets a little frustrated at times. We still consider you one of us, you know."

"I'm not though, am I?" Bilbo replied, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door."

"Oh...You're homesick." Bofur gave a sympathetic smile. "I understand."

"_No, _you don't!" Bilbo argued, a little more forcefully than he meant to. None of you do—you're dwarves. You're used to-to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not _belonging_ anywhere!" He realized a second too late that he'd gone too far, the injured look in Bofur's eyes telling him as much. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"No, you're right. We don't belong anywhere." Bofur sighed. "I wish you luck on the rest of our journey, lad, I really do." With that, Bofur stood up and walked away to take first watch.

Bilbo felt awful. Bofur hadn't deserved that. He'd really been nothing but kind to Bilbo since they had first met. Hopefully he wouldn't have to worry about that for long. Bofur had wished him luck on the rest of their journey, but he hoped he wouldn't need it.

….

Holly had been assigned second watch. _Again_. But she didn't dare argue with Thorin after he had snapped at Bilbo so harshly.

She thought Bofur looked a little glum when he woke her up for her watch, which was unusual for the normally cheerful dwarf, but she didn't want to ask him what was wrong, so she simply nodded at him.

As she sat there in the dark, her thoughts strayed once again to the vial in her coat pocket. If she had fallen from the cliff, or died in some other way, she wouldn't even have had to use it. Holly didn't even know if she _would_ have to use it eventually—the circumstances surrounding the 'dark power' inside her were extremely murky, which frustrated her to no end.

And if the time came when she would have to end her life...would she even be able to do it?

Holly's thoughts were interrupted when she caught sight of a slight figure moving in the dark.

"Bilbo?" she called out softly. The figure jumped. _That's Bilbo, all right._

"I—erm, I was just going to…" he stammered.

"Sneak off into the dark, yes, I can see that," she finished for him. "You forgot your walking stick." She jerked her head towards where it was leaning against the cave wall.

Bilbo gaped, open-mouthed at her for a moment, then went to go retrieve it. She watched him tiptoe over the dwarves, her features impassive. He gave her a slightly furtive glance and left the cave without another word.

Holly hesitated for a moment, then made to follow him, careful not to wake the others. She caught up to him at the entrance of the cave.

"Going back to Rivendell, then?"

The hobbit's shoulders slumped. "Yes. I...I'll be better off there."

"And you'll be able to make it back there unharmed?" Bilbo thought she sounded

almost bored.

"Y-You're not going to try and stop me?" He turned to face her.

She was gazing up at the sky, where the barest hint of dawn was battling with the light of the stars. Bilbo remembered what she'd said a few nights ago.

_What does it matter?_

"Not really," she admitted. "What, am I supposed to?"

He sighed. "No. Just...forget it."

"Okay. Bye."

"Yeah. Bye." The hobbit turned and began making his way along the rocky path.

"Bilbo."  
"Yes. What?" He turned around, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice.

"Why is your sword doing that?"

Bilbo looked down at the sword on his belt. A faint blue glow was coming from inside the sheath.

At that moment they heard a shout come from inside the cave. Holly made to rush back in, but Bilbo grabbed her arm.

"Wait! It might be dangerous!" he hissed.

"Hm, you really think so?" came her sarcastic reply.

Sure enough, the shouts of the Company were interspersed with guttural squawks and snarls. Holly sidled to the entrance of the cave and peered in.

It was not a pleasant sight, in every sense of the term. A swarm of goblins had flooded into the cave and were trying to drag the dwarves to the back of it, where a large hole had opened up. Holly had never seen a goblin before, and was beginning to wish she never would again. They looked like shrunken, flesh-colored orcs with numerous skin diseases.

"What's going on?" Bilbo whispered, trying to get a glimpse of the scene over Holly's shoulder.

"Goblins. They're kidnapping the dwarves."

"We have to do something!" he exclaimed.

Holly raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were leaving for Rivendell?"

Bilbo opened his mouth, then closed it, conflicted. Finally, he said, "Well, I can't just leave you to deal with them alone, right?"

She blinked a couple of times, taken aback by this reply. "...It's your decision," she said finally.

By then, the goblins and the Company had disappeared into the back of the cave. The two of them crept towards it. Through the dim light, Holly could see a steep tunnel leading downwards. The cries of the goblins echoed vaguely through the gloom.

After a long silence, Holly said, "For what it's worth...I won't push you this time."

Bilbo couldn't help but smirk a little. "Well, in that case...ladies first."

…..

It was dim in the goblins' little hideaway, and smelled something awful. And 'little hideaway' turned out to be a slight understatement. The tiny, steep tunnel they'd stumbled down opened up into a vast cavern. The walls were lined with rickety wooden bridges and platforms, and the yellowish light cast by the torches revealed a long, very deep chasm running through the middle of the cavern.

"So, um, do we have a plan?" Bilbo inquired, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hmm...judging by the size of this cavern we're most likely outnumbered, meaning we'll want to take a more stealthy appro—agh!"

Holly let out a small scream as something forcefully yanked her hair down, causing her to double over.

"Got ourselves a straggler, eh?" came a voice that sounded just _grimy_ and could only belong to a goblin. It must have jumped down from one of the higher platforms. It tightened its grip on her hair as she struggled.

"Hey!" Bilbo cried, drawing his sword. He'd been meaning to make some sort of brave statement after that initial remark, but found he had no voice as the goblin turned its beady eyes on him.

Another goblin leapt down from the wooden platform above, landing between Bilbo and the goblin that was holding Holly. It drew a jagged, nasty-looking sword and attacked.

As the goblin began trying to drag her towards where she could only guess the other dwarves were, Holly finally remembered the dagger in her pocket. With fumbling fingers, she withdrew it and stabbed blindly at her captor. She felt the dagger slice through flesh and tendons. Something hot and sticky washed over her hand as the grip on her hair went limp. Holly flipped her hair out of her face and watched the goblin slump to the ground, copious amounts of blood leaking from the open wound on its neck.

_Got lucky that time._

Bilbo was still engaged in a sword fight with the other goblin. He clearly had some talent with his sword, but was being pushed back by the goblin's vicious blows, showing obvious hesitation. Holly kept clear of the fight—she would probably endanger them both if she interfered.

It all happened so fast. One moment Bilbo was holding his own against the goblin, but then it leapt onto his back, making him stumble dangerously close to the edge.

"Bilbo!" she cried out in warning. But she couldn't reach them in time, and could only watch helplessly as both Bilbo and the goblin tumbled over the edge of the platform.

**I hope you enjoyed this one! Next chapter is more fluff n angst, and Holly deals with more shit.**

**Thanks for all the follows and support! It helps me out a lot.**

**Also, I have a LotR/Hobbit/fandom tumblr which is partyprincessofrohan. Follow if you like stupidity and Benedict Cumberbatch.**


	9. The Light Upon the Hill

**Chapter 10**

Holly felt a sickening chill spread through her chest. She rushed to the edge of the platform, but saw nothing—they were _gone._

"_No…"_

She could have helped—could have done _something—_but she'd just stood there…and Bilbo had paid for it with his life.

_How typically selfish…_

She felt incredibly numb, and barely registered the grubby hand closing around her arm. She didn't bother to fight as she was dragged away from the edge of the platform.

She wanted to kill the goblin that was gripping her arm, but realized that she had dropped her knife. So she stayed submissive, hoping she would be able to use one of the dwarves' weapons. She wasn't sure what to make of the small flame of rage curling in the pit of her stomach, so she tried her best to quell the feeling, or at least ignore it.

Holly finally looked up at the sound of a booming voice echoing throughout the cavern.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Thieves? Spies? Assassins?"

At the end of the platform was a throne—if you could call it that—and seated upon it was a...thing...that could only be the king of the goblins. He was the ugliest and most obese of not merely the goblins, but all the intelligent life forms that Holly had ever encountered. And gathered in a disgruntled group before the king were the rest of the Company, ringed in by a group of goblins. The one holding her shoved her into the group.

"Dwarves, your Malevolence," piped up one of the goblins from the front of the group.

"Dwarves?" the goblin king squawked as though the response had been utterly preposterous.

_How utterly _stupid _is this creature to not know what a dwarf is? It lives in a damned mountain, for Eru's sake._

"We found em' on the front porch," the goblin answered proudly.

"Well, don't just stand there! Search them!" the king bellowed.

The goblins converged on their group, pawing through clothes in search of other weapons. Holly shied away from their groping hands and managed to move far enough into the crowd of dwarves that she wasn't searched too thoroughly.

There was a loud clatter as Nori's entire bag of stolen goods was dumped onto the floor. One of the goblins snatched up a candelabra, exclaiming, "Look! They are in league with elves!"

The king grabbed it and read, "Made in Rivendell. Second Age." Holly was genuinely astonished that he was literate. "Couldn't give it away," he scoffed, tossing it over the edge of the platform.

"Just a couple of keepsakes," Nori muttered in response to Dori's accusing glare. Nori was spared, however, as Dori caught sight of Holly.

"Holly! Thank Mahal you're okay! We thought we'd lost you!" he exclaimed.

"Hm? Oh...yes. I'm fine," she said, slightly taken aback by this reception.

"Where's the hobbit?" Nori asked.

Holly swallowed hard, the chill creeping back into her chest. "He's...gone."

Nori nodded in sympathy. "I knew the lad wasn't fit for this sort of thing."

Holly stared. He thought Bilbo had _left._

"If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk!" the goblin king's voice caused her to turn and look at him instead. "Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the youngest!" he pointed at Ori, who paled. Holly thought he should have been insulted, seeing as he was not the youngest.

"Wait!" Thorin shouted, pushing his way to the front of the group.

"Well, well, well," the goblin king drawled. "If it isn't Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror: King under the Mountain." He gave an exaggerated bow, and Holly hoped in vain that he would fall over. "Oh, but I'm forgetting—you don't have a mountain, and you're not a king. Which makes you...nobody, really."

A malicious grin stretched over his pudgy face. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just a head—nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak? An old enemy of yours...a pale orc astride a white warg."

This was when Holly began to realize that they were trapped here—truly trapped, and hopelessly outnumbered. If this orc, whoever he was, wanted their Company dead, they would have no chance of survival.

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin ground out. "He was slain in battle long ago."

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" The goblin king smirked, then turned to a tiny, shriveled goblin hanging on a wire. "Send word to the Pale Orc. Tell him I have found his prize." The goblin cackled and scrawled out the message, then slid down the wire.

Holly felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with a tiny bit of rage surge through her. She couldn't let this happen. She _wouldn't_. Not after what happened to Bilbo.

"No!" she cried, and stupidly lunged towards the tiny goblin messenger. If she could just reach it—!

But her fingers closed around open air and everything tilted upside down as Holly fell over the side of the platform.

There was a sickening moment of freefall, then everything became chaos and it seemed as though rocks were battering her from all sides, taking turns to deliver bruising blows to her torso, arms, and legs. After what seemed like many painful hours, she finally came to a halt and gravity righted itself. There was a terrible breaking sound, and everything fell silent.

…

When Holly came to, she observed that it was almost pitch black and her entire body hurt. She wondered why she wasn't dead and how many bones she had broken. She shifted a little, wincing. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

The dwarves would probably all be slaughtered anyway, and she'd probably die in this damned cave because she actually _cared_ what happened to them. When had anything good ever come from getting involved, from trying to make a difference in other people's lives?

There came a horrible, wretched cry that echoed throughout the walls of the cave, startling her. Holly could vaguely tell by the echoes that she was in some sort of system of tunnels, most likely natural judging by its irregular structure. There was barely enough lighting to deduce anything else.

She gingerly tried to sit up, an awful grating noise making her flinch. None of her bones were broken as far as she could tell, but—

"Oh, no…"

She plunged her hand into her coat pocket, and immediately withdrew it. There was broken glass in her pocket.

"No, no, no, no..." She dumped the fragments of the vial out of her pocket, part of its contents dripping out as well. "_Damn it_!"

Another cry sounded, this one closer, so Holly struggled to her feet. Whatever was coming, it did not sound happy…

"Ah!" Holly stumbled backwards as something rammed right into her. She stared at the dim figure for a moment. "Bilbo?"

"_Holly_?" His voice was quavering slightly.

"Bilbo!" she exclaimed, putting her hands on his shoulders. "You're—" She realized what she was doing and quickly took her hands away. "—not dead, apparently."

She could faintly see his eyebrows draw together. "Um, yes, I'm still alive. But listen, we have to get out of here, now."

"Why? What's going on?"

"THIEEEEF!" Another wretched shriek caused Bilbo to jump. He grabbed her arm and started pulling her away from the sound. "Come on! We have to move!"

They fumbled their way through the dim passages as the howling behind them grew louder. "HE _STOLE_ IT!"

"I'm guessing you stole something from this...whatever it is?" Holly asked.

"Um." Bilbo stopped. They'd come to a point where the tunnel split off into two. "W-Which way?"

Holly paused a second, then answered, "Left!" and they were running again.

At one point the tunnel became quite narrow. Holly slipped through without much difficulty, but when she turned to see if Bilbo had caught up, she saw that he was stuck.

"Oh, for Eru's sake!" _Damned hobbits and their six meals a day…_ She grabbed his hand and tried to help pull him through. As she did, she caught a glimpse of a pair of pale, unnerving eyes before Bilbo finally came loose and they both fell to the ground.

"My buttons!" he exclaimed—nearly all of them had fallen off when Holly had pulled him through.

_We are being chased by some crazy cave crawler and he's complaining about his buttons… _"Come on! Get up!" She tugged the hobbit to his feet and took off once again.

After a few minutes of fumbling Holly noticed their surroundings were getting lighter. "Hey, I think we're close to the entrance!"

No response.

"You know, if it's really that upsetting to you, I'll get you some new buttons. That is, if we get out ali—Bilbo?" She turned around to see that he wasn't following her anymore. "_Bilbo_?"

Holly bit her lip. Once again, she'd been too caught up in her own safety to worry about the hobbit's.

_Selfish, selfish, selfish._

She heard a scuffling sound and spun around. "Bilbo?"

When she turned back around, he was there. He seemed unharmed, if a little pale. "Eru, Bilbo! I was so worried, I thought you'd...oh, forget it. Let's just get out of here."

The creature started screaming again and they ran towards the light. Even when they'd reached the exit they didn't stop running for several yards.

Bilbo collapsed against a tree. They'd ended up in a pine forest that covered a steep hill. For several minutes the air was just filled with their heavy breathing. "This..." the hobbit finally panted, "This is the most ridiculous thing...I've ever done."

Holly laughed, mostly because she was just glad that they were both alive. Bilbo gave a relieved, wheezy laugh as well.

"How did you know? About which path to take? Or did you just guess?" Bilbo asked with a slight smirk.

She scowled and sat down next to him. "I never guess. I took the left path because—in case you didn't notice—it slopes upwards and since the cave is obviously naturally made the origin point—or exit—would have to be higher up since water runs downhill."

Bilbo turned and stared at her. Holly suddenly found the grass very fascinating.

"You thought of all of that, in that split second?" he asked finally.

"Well, yes..."

"That's...amazing. That's really brilliant."

She studied his face to make sure he wasn't joking. "You...really think so?"

He nodded and smiled. "I do. Good work, getting us out of there."

Holly's mind worked frantically to think of something to say. She finally settled on a simple, "Thank you."

Bilbo stood up and stretched. "Do you think the others made it out of there?"

Holly's fingernails bit into her palms. "I dunno. Maybe," she replied lightly. She stood up as well, wincing as she did so.

"Are you hurt?"

Was he actually concerned for her? "Just a little bruised. Can't believe I survived that fall."

However, Bilbo had become distracted by something further downhill. "Hey, is that…" His face lit up. "It's the dwarves!" He started off down the hill.

"_What_?" Was it possible that they had actually managed to escape? A knot of emotion rose in Holly's chest, which she quickly pushed down and wasted no time in following Bilbo.

They heard the others before they saw them, Gandalf's voice ringing out: "Where's Bilbo? _Where is our hobbit_?"

Apparently Gandalf had decided to show up after all.

"Curse the halfling! Now he's lost?" Dwalin fumed.

Bilbo stopped in his tracks, smile fading.

"I thought he was with Dori!"

"Don't blame me!"

Holly watched Bilbo as he stood completely still, listening to the dwarves argue. Neither of them had been seen yet. Wasn't he going to make himself known, and prove them all wrong?

"Well, where did you last see him?" Gandalf interrogated.

Nori spoke up. "Holly said that he was gone, before she…" There was an awkward silence.

_Oh._ Holly realized that all the dwarves thought she had died.

"What happened, exactly? Tell me!" Gandalf demanded.

"I'll tell you what happened," Thorin growled. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and warm hearth since he first stepped out his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone."

Holly wondered how many times Thorin had been betrayed to act so bitter towards his own allies.

Bilbo took this moment to step out into the clearing, declaring, "No, he isn't."

"Bilbo Baggins!" Gandalf exclaimed. "I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life!"

Holly thought it would be good to take advantage of this dramatic entrance, so she moved into sight as well.

"Hello, everyone…" she was greeted with surprised stares, as was to be expected. "Well, I'm not de—" She stumbled back slightly as Nori all but tackled her into a hug.

"Thank Mahal, Holly! We all thought that you were...well...I'm glad you're all right."

She patted him awkwardly on the back.

"How on Earth did you get past the goblins?" Fili asked.

Holly exchanged a lingering glance with Bilbo. 'Get past'...that wasn't exactly how she'd phrase it.

"How, indeed." Dwalin crossed his arms.

The hobbit simply gave an awkward laugh under the burly dwarf's scrutinizing stare, fiddling with the pockets of his waistcoat.

"Well, what does it matter? He is back," Gandalf said finally.

"It matters." Thorin stepped forward, causing Bilbo to tense up. "I want to know. Why did you come back?"

"Look…I know you doubt me. I-I know you always have. And you're right. I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my arm chair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back, because…" Bilbo looked around at all the dwarves. "You don't have one. It was taken from you...But I will help you take it back, if I can."

Holly suppressed a yawn as everyone looked either pensive or deeply moved. _Touching, truly touching, but don't we have more important things to attend to?_

She immediately regretted this train of thought as a sharp howl pierced the air, causing everyone to start.

"Out of the frying pan…" Thorin muttered grimly.

"And into the fire," Gandalf finished in an equally ominous tone. "Run! _RUN_!"

Everyone took off down the hill. Holly stumbled after them, limbs weighing heavily. She just wanted to _sleep_, for Eru's sake. But now they were being pursued by the group of orcs that _she_ had failed to delay. If she had just managed to stop that goblin messenger...

_Just stop your whining and focus on the task at hand._

The pounding of the wargs' paws as they ran was getting louder, or perhaps that was just Holly's heartbeat. The Company came to an abrupt halt. Holly could see through the fading daylight that the treeline up ahead simply disappeared—of course...they'd run straight onto a cliff.

Meaning, obviously, that they were trapped.

"Up into the trees!" Gandalf ordered. "Come on! All of you, _climb_!"

Holly watched the dwarves scramble up into the pines. Were they _really_ going to do this?

"Holly! Come on!"

"Oh, for Eru's sake," she grumbled, taking Nori's proffered hand and climbing up.

"Bilbo, climb!" Gandalf shouted.

She saw the hobbit still on the ground, attempting to pull his sword out of a warg's skull.

"Twist it!" she shouted at him. "You have to twist the sword!"

He gave her a fleeting glance before following her suggestion. The sword came free with a squelching noise, and Bilbo stumbled back back. Bombur helped him up into a tree just as a dozen wargs flooded through the woods, circling their cluster of trees.

Holly's fears were confirmed as an ashen figure appeared from the gloom. The pale orc sneered directly at Thorin, rumbling something in the Black Speech. Holly caught Thorin's name, as well as the name Thrain, most likely referring to his father.

Thorin stared at Azog. His expression was familiar to Holly—it was the kind she wore when she'd just woken up from a nightmare but wasn't quite sure if she was awake or if some kind of cruel trick was being played on her.

Azog uttered some sort of attack command, and all the wargs snarled and leapt towards the trees, making them shake and bow. Holly yelped as she almost lost her balance. Nori pulled her higher into the trees, keeping a firm grip on her arm.

"Thank you," she gasped as the branch she had been perched on was ripped off by a warg. They were _so high up_—

Perhaps the Valar just had it in for her, she decided, as their tree began to tilt dangerously, its roots ripping from the ground from the wargs' constant onslaught. Their tree crashed into another, and without quite knowing what she was doing, she managed to scramble onto that tree.

And then that one, too, started to fall.

Through some sort of ridiculous domino effect, they jumped from one falling tree to the next, until all sixteen of them were piled into one tree. Holly looked down and white stars filled her vision. They were at the very edge of the cliff, and if this tree were to be knocked over…

There was a hissing sound as a ball of fire hurtled through the air and landed at the wargs' feet, causing them to whine and jump back. Gandalf was lighting pinecones and hurling them at the wargs. This idea (and the fire) quickly spread and soon nearly everyone was tossing burning pinecones at the wargs, who quickly retreated. Azog roared in outrage.

"You all do realize," Holly called over their triumphant shouts, "that we're standing in a tree, which is made of flammable material, in case you didn't know—" She let out a strangled gasp as the tree began to fall, causing them to scramble for a tighter grip on the branches. It leaned sickeningly slow until it was parallel to the ground.

_Well, at least I won't need that damned vial,_ she thought, her legs dangling in thin air. If she didn't burn to death, she would surely fall. Try as she might, she couldn't slow her breathing to its normal rate. She felt as though her muscles were frozen.

Numbly, she watched as Thorin climbed onto the now horizontal trunk and made his way onto the cliff.

_That imbecile is going to try and fight Azog,_ she realized. Perhaps this had to do with restoring his honor, or something. Maybe, on the off chance that he won, he would come back to help them up?

Thorin charged through the flaming undergrowth, sword raised. It was a rather foolish move, as Azog easily knocked him over with his warg. The dwarf dragged himself to his feet, only to receive a crippling blow to the jaw by the orc's mace.

_Hm. How did that not take his head off?_

Thorin screamed in agony as Azog's warg sunk its teeth into his shoulder, tearing through flesh.

Holly hissed through her teeth at the sight. He didn't deserve to die that way. It was probably very embarrassing, not to mention painful.

The warg tossed Thorin against a boulder, where he slumped, motionless. One of the orcs drew a curved blade and advanced on the helpless dwarf.

Holly looked up. "Bilbo?" The hobbit had climbed onto the tree trunk and drawn his sword. "Wha—You're not really going to—" He sprinted towards the orcs, tackling the one that had been about to decapitate Thorin. Holly's eyes widened as the other orcs began to converge on the hobbit. He'd barely managed to kill that first orc—he would not survive against a group.

Thankfully, Fili, Kili, and Dwalin rushed forth to help with the battle. Holly lost track of the events after that because she became extremely focused on the fact that the tree was tilting even further over the cliff, causing her grip to slide a little. She was gripping the branch so hard that her hands were numb and a bit sore.

She was vaguely aware of large figures swooping down over the battlefield (giant eagles?) and fighting off the wargs. They began to pluck various members of the Company from the cliff and the tree, carrying them to Valar knows where.

Holly tensed as the tree lurched further towards the ground, which was a long ways away. _For the love of Eru, don't fall, don't fall..._

"Holly! Jump!" Gandalf shouted at her, as though this was all part of the plan. Had he _summoned_ the eagles?

"Regardless of my, ah, situation, I do not have a death wish, thank you!" she shouted back.

But it turned out she did not have a choice. The branch she was holding snapped, and she found herself plummeting from the cliff.

….

Holly stared at the miniscule trees and rivers below, feeling sick and shaky. The eagle had her considerably secure in its talons, but that did not stop her from wishing Gandalf had chosen _any_ other method to rescue them except eagles flying them off to somewhere. She wondered what it would be like to fall from this distance.

At least with falling you knew exactly where you'd end up. Her fate was so uncertain she didn't know which she would prefer.

"THORIN!" Holly heard Fili shout. She squinted against the rising sun at his limp figure. He hadn't moved once since his battle with Azog. So, he was either unconscious, or…

No. He had to be alive.

It surprised her, how much she wanted the members of the Company to survive, how much she wanted all of them to see this through to the end. As much as she hated to admit it, Holly was beginning to care for them.

_But what has caring ever done for you? Do not continue to make that mistake._

The eagle carrying Thorin deposited him on a tall pillar of stone, and the other eagles circled around this place, dropping them off as well. Holly grunted as her eagle dumped her unceremoniously on the pillar before flying away. She still felt very bruised from her fall a few hours before.

The dwarves crowded around Thorin's body as Gandalf strode over and knelt down beside him. He muttered something under his breath and passed his hand over the dwarf's face. After a moment, Thorin's blue eyes opened. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"The halfling?" Thorin croaked.

"It's all right," Gandalf soothed. "Bilbo is here. He is quite safe."

Dwalin and Kili helped Thorin to his feet, but he shrugged them off and addressed Bilbo, who was standing rather awkwardly apart from the rest of the group.

"You! What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you were a burden? That you would not survive in the wild and that you had no place amongst us?"

Bilbo stared at the ground, looking plainly _upset._

Holly thought that maybe she should speak up, and ask Thorin why exactly he was so set on insulting the hobbit, but the dwarf continued, "I have never been so wrong, in all my life," and pulled the hobbit into a hug.

Bilbo's eyes widened, but then he relaxed into the hug, smiling slightly. The dwarves cheered. Even Holly found herself smiling, just simply _because_.

Thorin pulled back and held the hobbit at arms length. "I am sorry I doubted you."

"No, I would have doubted me too," Bilbo confessed. "I'm not a hero, or a warrior, or even a burglar."

Everyone just stood around smiling for a minute, until Thorin looked up and started walking towards the edge of the pillar, eyes wide.

"Is that…?"

It was there, on the horizon. It was just a faint, small outline, but the shape of the Lonely Mountain was _there_, and closer than any of them had hoped.

"Erebor," Gandalf announced. "The Lonely Mountain: the last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle Earth."

_Not really a dwarf kingdom anymore, though._

"Our home," whispered Thorin, looking happier and prouder than Holly had ever seen him.

"A raven!" Oin exclaimed, pointing out a small bird as it flew past. "The birds are returning to the mountain!"

"That's a thrush," Holly pointed out.

"We'll take it as a sign," Thorin continued, still smiling. "A good omen."

"You're right." Bilbo nodded. "I do believe the worst is behind us."

Holly felt a strange urge to laugh.

_If only they knew…The worst is yet to come._

**Super long chapter this time! I liked writing this one, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Thanks a lot for all the reviews and follows and such! Speaking of reviews, someone notified me that I'd accidentally posted Chapter 4 twice in the spot of Chapter 5. If anything like that happens again, please notify me, I'd appreciate it a lot!**


	10. The Bandits

**Chapter 10: The Bandits**

_"...awareness is different from thinking." —David Foster Wallace; The Pale King_

"Oh." Holly stiffened, staying far away from the edge of the pillar. The sick feeling had returned as she became aware once more of how high up they were. The others did not seem to share this sentiment and began descending a narrow staircase carved into the rock. "Are we...Are we climbing down now?

"Of course," Kili replied, following his brother down the narrow path. "We can't reclaim Erebor from here, can we?"

"No," Holly bit out. "I knew that, I was just..." She sighed, bunching up her coat sleeves in her fists. It became clear she was the only one not heading down.

Dori paused, noticing her hesitation. "Are you afraid of heights, lass?" he asked softly, so the others wouldn't hear.

"No," she said, though the bundle of nerves in her chest did not stop its buzzing. "I'm just...we're very high up, and there is a possibility of one of us falling. It's-It's a very logical concern." She crossed her arms.

Dori smiled consolingly. "That sounds like a fear of heights to me. Don't worry, lass. Us dwarves aren't too used to being high up either. Just don't look down, and you'll be fine."

Holly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That was the advice everyone else had given her, ever.

But no one had ever put their hand on her shoulder as she shuffled down the path, eyes fixed on the horizon.

"It's all right, lass. We're almost there." His tone was, bracing, not patronizing.

It was baffling, Dori's concern for her. He barely knew her, and yet he always seemed to care about her safety and wellbeing. Of course, he was rather known for his mother-hen tendencies, especially with Ori, and Holly had tried to stay out of range of that.

But now...she rather appreciated it.

…..

_A metallic cacophony broke decades of silence. The gold sent vague shimmers of light through the dim cavern as it moved. A low thrumming growl echoed through the hall…_

"Holly? Holly!"

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the ground, and how far away it was. Holly shoved herself against the cliff face behind her, trying to get her breathing under control.

"Holly! Are you awake, lass?"

"I-I hope not. Please tell me this is a bad dream." Her voice quavered embarrassingly as the world began to tilt…

"I'm afraid not, lass." She recognized Balin's voice on her right. He was gripping her arm, and Dori was holding her left. They had kept her from falling, and could probably feel her trembling as well.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Dori inquired. "You passed out for a moment, there."

"Is there a problem?" Thorin called from farther down the line.

"Holly just fainted for a moment," Balin responded. Holly grit her teeth. _Fainted…_ She felt pathetic.

"Is she all right?" Thorin asked.

"I'm fine," Holly replied shortly.

She felt alarmed, though—before her little episode she had felt normal, if a little shaken up. Her loss of consciousness had been so sudden. It wasn't shock—Holly knew what shock felt like, and this wasn't it.

They reached the bottom of the rock without further incident, whereupon they stopped to rest. Thorin was still injured, and the rest of the Company had sustained minor wounds from the orcs and goblins as well.

They spent the day resting and being tended to by Oin, the Company's healer. Kili and Bifur went hunting, seeing as they had lost all their food and supplies in the goblins' lair.

Dori pestered Holly for most of the day to go see Oin, convinced that she was not as unharmed as she said. Holly gave in after a while, if only to get some peace of mind.

That peace of mind did not last long, however. Gandalf approached her at one point to make inquiries about her health.

"Did anything strange happen when you fainted earlier?"

Holly sighed and crossed her arms. "Oh, this is about...that. No, nothing strange happened."

"I am trying to help you Holly," Gandalf insisted, sensing her lack of responsiveness. "It is vital that you tell me the truth."

"I have no reason not to."

"Did you see or hear anything while you were unconscious?"

"No," she said.

Gandalf raised a bushy eyebrow, but said nothing. Holly looked away. He was trying to help her, that was true. But how could she accept his help when she had a deep-seated instinct _not_ to trust the wizard?

…...

Bilbo was in an excellent mood, if a little tired. Thorin had finally accepted him into the Company, and the fact meant more to him than he'd expected.

As the sun began to set and Bombur prepared dinner, Holly walked over and sat next to him. They watched the rest of the Company go about their business in a comfortable silence.

"Um," Holly began, "That thing that you did...with Thorin, back on the cliff, I, um, I thought that...that was...good."

Bilbo smiled and turned to look at her. Her eyes had focused themselves on the ground, hands fiddling with her coat sleeves. "...Thank you. I honestly don't know what came over me." When he had seen Thorin, their leader, so helpless, he had felt a strange urge not only to protect, but to help him. That was perhaps the first time he had viewed Thorin as his equal. Looking back on his actions, he was lucky to not have been killed by the orcs. "...I thought I was going to die," Bilbo added quietly.

"I'm glad you didn't," Holly answered softly. "You know, and back in the goblin tunnels…"

He gave a soft smile. For once, she seemed almost...normal.

"I was afraid you'd bashed your brains out down there." Ah, never mind.

They sat in silence for a while more, the daylight fading.

Bilbo went back to thinking about how close he had been to dying on that hillside. It had never really occurred to him that he might die on this adventure, or even that adventures could be deadly. They certainly weren't all pony rides in May sunshine. He wondered what would happen to Bag End if he never came back. He wondered if anyone in the Shire even expected him to return one day.

"What do you think happens, after we die?" he asked Holly.

She sighed and stretched. "Are you really going to get all philosophical on me at _this_ hour, Bilbo?"

"Well, I want to know," he replied, crossing his arms. Apparently she wasn't going to take this topic seriously. Did she even _feel_ fear? Perhaps he could find out. "You have a lot of...interesting opinions, and I want to know what you think."

"Oh. I'm...not really sure. I suppose I've never really considered that sort of thing before." Now her tone sounded uncertain. She gazed at him with an unspoken question in her eyes.

"I would like to believe that there is something after we die. A life after death, I suppose."

Holly scoffed. "What's the point of death, then, if you get a second chance?"

"I think everyone deserves a second chance," he asserted.

She made a low humming noise and flopped down in the grass, staring up at the sky.

Bilbo frowned. She was using that condescending tone again. "Look, if you disagree with me, you could at least—"

"No, I just think you're making a generalization about a lot of people that you don't know."

He had nothing to say to that.

She glanced up at him. "I'm not going to stop you from having opinions. I just don't think—"

"Yeah, I know." Perhaps he was making a generalization, but then again he did know a lot of people who had deserved a second chance. People who _had_ lost their lives without deserving it.

As if Holly knew anything about loss.

…

The next morning, they began traveling again. Thorin asserted that he was well enough to walk, and that they should start moving. No one was keen to argue. Their deadline was drawing ever closer.

It appeared as though Holly was back to square one with Bilbo—he did not look at her once while they packed up and began walking. Though she wasn't quite sure where she had stood with him before.

So when Nori, who had been talking with Ori, caught her eye and smiled, she hesitated for about half an hour before catching up to him.

"I…" She took a deep breath. "I would like to confirm that we are, indeed, friends." She waited with bated breath as he seemed to consider this, looking a bit confused.

Finally, he smiled. "All right, then."

She nodded and made to walk away, but Nori called out, "Stick around and talk with us, will you?"

"Oh, um, all right."

She listened them talk about what had happened in the goblins' cave after she'd...left. Apparently Gandalf had come to save them and helped them fight their way out.

After a comical retelling of the party at Bag End by Nori, he turned to her and asked, "So, where'd you get that coat? It seems pretty sturdy. Is it of dwarfish make?"

Holly's coat was made of a thick black material, and was several sizes too large—the hem reached her knees.

"I don't know. It was my father's." She knew where this conversation was going.

"Sounds like he has good taste."

"Doesn't he live in Laketown?" Ori piped up. "Maybe you could introduce us if we stop by."

Holly suppressed a sigh. "He, ah, jumped into the lake when I was younger. Can't really introduce anyone to him anymore."

There was a predictable silence.

"I'm very sorry, Holly," Ori said finally.

She wasn't quite sure how to respond, having never really shared this piece of information with anyone before. "Don't apologize. You didn't have anything to do with it."

"It's hard, though," Nori sympathized. "Losing a father."

Holly bit her lip. That had been hard to say. But she felt more at ease now, as though a small weight had been lifted off her chest. "Thank you."

….

It took three days for something eventful to happen.

Their journey had led them along a dirt road. Gandalf informed them that it led to a small settlement farther south that had recently been built. They would not go that far, however—Gandalf was leading them straight east.

Around noon they saw a horse-drawn wagon cresting the hill ahead of them.

The driver waved as the wagon approached. "Good day to you, sirs! Jus' transportin' some vegetables here."

Some of the dwarves waved back, nodding in greeting.

Holly took in the thick clothing and covered wagon and her eyes widened. She pushed her way over to Thorin.

"There are bandits in there," she hissed. "And disorganized ones, at that. But they still might be a threat."

Thorin frowned. "How can you be so sure?"

She sighed. "How can you not…?" She glanced at the wagon as it passed them. "I'm fairly sure they're going to try and rob us."

"I hope for our sake that you are wrong," Thorin replied, ignoring Holly's, "I'm not!" and barking a low, "Ifridî bekâr!" to the rest of the Company.

At least he was smart enough to speak in Khuzdul, so the bandits couldn't understand him. The dwarves readied their weapons and Bilbo took the cue as well, putting his hand on his sword.

Moments later, several armed men came flooding out of the wagon, weapons drawn.

"I told you…" She couldn't help but boast a little.

"Holly, stay back!" Thorin shouted, pushing her away from their attackers as he drew his sword.

There was hardly any need for that, though. The bandits had armed themselves with hardly more than clubs and daggers. Against the dwarves, the attempt at an attack was so pathetic it was almost laughable. The bandits likely patrolled this road under the guise of farmers in search of travelers to rob.

Holly heard footsteps behind her and turned just in time to see a club aimed for her head. "Oh, sh—"

She recognized Bilbo's sword as it parried the swing in time for Bofur to incapacitate the bandit with his mattock.

"Are you all right?" Bilbo asked her.

"I—ah—" she stammered, trying to calm her racing heart. She'd almost had her _skull_ bashed in. The bandits must have posted scouts in the woods, too.

And just like that, the fight was over, with most of the attackers either unconscious or otherwise disabled.

"What do we do with this lot?" Dwalin asked, nudging one of the fallen bandits with his foot.

"Leave them," Gandalf ordered. "I do not think they will bother us again. Though it is strange, that they would attack against such great odds..."

"Is anyone hurt?" Thorin questioned, and everyone shook their heads. Again, the fight had been a ridiculously unfair one.

"Idiots," Holly remarked. "As in the bandits," she added as several heads turned at her comment. "I thought you lot did good, with the fighting…"

"Thank you." Fili nodded. The others turned back to cleaning their weapons, mollified.

Holly turned to Bilbo, feeling inexplicably nervous.

"And, um...thank you. For...that. What you did. With the, uh, bandit." She bit her lower lip.

Bilbo nodded, his expression unreadable. "You're welcome."

She wanted to say something else (though she didn't know specifically _what_), but the hobbit had already walked away.

"All right, let's keep going," Thorin ordered, and they began walking again.

Holly cast a glance over to where Bilbo was chatting with Bofur. A strange lightness filled her chest as she gazed at him. Things had changed between them, but she wasn't entirely sure how. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Holly pushed the thoughts away and became aware of Thorin walking next to her in silence.

"All right, you've got questions," she prompted.

"How did you know there were bandits inside the wagon?"

"I'm surprised you didn't see it. The driver clearly wasn't a farmer; no farmer wears clothes that thick this time of year, so obviously he was concealing weapons. And vegetables? Really? He was clearly lying. People always give away too much information when they lie. And where would he have been transporting that cargo, unless his customers like rotten vegetables? It was clear he was hiding something," Holly rattled off.

Thorin was silent for a moment, digesting the information. "You have keen eyes, Miss Holly."

"No, I don't. You saw everything that I saw, you just didn't think about it. You see things, but you hardly observe at all...But I'm always glad to help," she backpedaled.

"Without your insight, we might have fared worse in the fight. You did well," Thorin acknowledged.

Holly smiled. "You're welcome."

**Yay, Holly did something to help! And she'll be doing plenty more of that in the future, especially next chapter. Speaking of which, a bit of a game-changer is coming up, so be prepared!**

**Thanks for all the feedback so far and let me know what you think in the comments! There were also hints to a certain something...can anyone guess what?**


	11. The Man in the Clearing

**Chapter 11: The Man in the Clearing**

_"Nobody realizes that some people expend a tremendous energy merely to be normal." —Albert Camus_

The stench of blood filled the clearing.

Through the moonlight they could see a mangled lump on the ground. Further inspection yielded a dead body lying slumped on its side, the leaves and dirt around it stained the color of wine.

"Is that…" Bofur's horrified whisper trailed off.

"It's a corpse, yes," Holly strode forth and studied the body. The rest of the Company followed with shuffling footsteps.

They'd been trying to find a safe place to rest. Their little bonfire on the cliff hadn't done much to slow Azog down, and the howling of wargs had grown ever closer throughout the day. They had been traveling though a small forest when they had found the body.

"What sort of animal would do this?" Kili asked. Four parallel gashes ran across the man's chest, the shape indicating a set of claws. A pool of blood had collected under his lacerated torso and legs.

"Perhaps the wargs have overtaken us?" Ori said.

"It wasn't a warg." Holly knelt, studying the body further.

"She's right," Oin said. "The claw marks are too big."

"And wargs prefer to attack with their teeth anyway." Everyone made a point not to look at Thorin.

"Lass, don't—" Dori said as Holly reached out to the corpse.

"Oh, don't be so squeamish, it's just a dead body." She grabbed its bloodied shoulder and rolling it onto its stomach with a squelching noise. Sometimes she couldn't believe that everyone in the Company was her senior by more than twenty years. Bilbo was staring at the sky, trying his best not to be sick.

Those still watching could see another gash running up the corpse's left leg.

Holly studied the body a few moments more before standing up.

"And what exactly was accomplished by that?" Bombur asked.

"A lot, actually," Holly said. "We now know that he was a poacher from the same town as the bandits from earlier, their settlement is running low on food, and his wife recently died."

"'We now know'...?"

She took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment. "Well, look at his clothing. It's remarkably similar to that of the bandits, and he would have to be from nearby seeing as he has no supplies on his person, nor a traveling cloak. Obviously he went on a little errand for the settlement to get food—see how thin he is—yet he doesn't have the equipment for hunting and if he did he would have been prepared for an attack. You might say he was surprised but he was clearly chased. The marks on his legs indicate as much—can't run if his legs are torn open. So the beast pursued him and took him down but only went for the kill, and didn't eat him. Obviously whoever was being stolen from either has a humongous guard dog or some other means of defense. As for the wife, his clothes have several layers of dirt and are wrinkled, meaning he's been putting off washing them, probably doesn't know how. Can't be due to a water shortage since there's a stream nearby." She gave this analysis at a rapid pace and turned to the others. "Did I miss anything?"

"...You...You got all that from one look?" Gloin asked after a long silence.

"Well...a few looks," Holly replied. She searched their faces with a small, nervous smile, hands clasped behind her back to try and keep them from shaking.

The dwarves exchanged glances.

"Do you...do that to us?" Bofur asked.

"...Yes."

The dwarves exchanged glances once more.

"So, um..." Holly's voice died in her throat. None of the dwarves were meeting her eyes anymore.

A warg's howl broke the strained moment, sounding much too close for comfort.

"They're getting closer!" Dwalin said, as if everyone hadn't already figured that out..

"Do you think it is Azog's group?" Balin turned to Thorin.

"Perhaps our burglar should investigate." Thorin turned to the hobbit.

Bilbo nodded with a tight jaw and turned to go.

Holly wanted to say something along the lines of, "Be careful," but she was frozen on the spot. The way they'd all looked at her (or hadn't) suggested they did not approve of what she had done. She had learned from a young age how to pick apart minute details and translate them into information, and did it often out of habit.

And yes, she had studied the dwarves and picked up their histories and professions and tendencies in mere minutes. But sharing that fact with them had been a mistake.

_They won't accept something freakish like that. Ridiculous… As though they'd befriend you after learning who you really are._

Bilbo returned a few minutes later.

"How close is the pack?"

"Too close," Bilbo replied. "A couple of leagues, no more. But that's not the worst of it—"

"Have the wargs picked up our scent?"

"Not yet, but they will. And we have another problem—"

"Did they see you?" Gandalf asked. "They saw you!" he said when Bilbo did not answer right away.

"No, that's not it."

The wizard smiled and turned to the dwarves. "What did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material." The dwarves muttered in agreement.

"Will you just—Will you _listen_?" Bilbo raised his voice, exasperated. "I'm trying to tell you that there is something else out there."

Holly's head snapped up. "Did you see it?" She tried not to wince as her voice cracked a little.

Bilbo nodded.

"What form did it take? That of a bear?" Gandalf questioned.

"Ye…" Bilbo sent the wizard a questioning glance. "Yes. But bigger, much bigger."

Holly turned back to the corpse. The claw marks could be those of an oversized bear.

"You knew about this beast?" Bofur asked. He glanced at the dead body, coming to the same conclusion as Holly. "I say we double back."

"And be run down by a pack of orcs?" Thorin disputed.

"There is a house, not far from here, where we might take refuge," Gandalf said.

"Whose house? Are they friend or foe?"

Holly sighed. _Definitely foe. No safer strategy than lodging with the enemy!_

"Neither," Gandalf replied. "He will help us or he will kill us."

"What choice do we have?"

"We'd best make for the house. Though we will have to move quickly."

"If there are more poachers out there, that'll probably buy us some time," Holly said.

As if on cue, an agonized yell rang out, making everyone flinch, though it sounded quite far off.

"All right, everyone, move!" Thorin said. "Gandalf, lead the way!"

…

They set off at a brisk walk through the woods.

Holly could see the sky begin to lighten. _Looks like another sleepless night._

They didn't stop until morning had come and gone and they had reached the edge of a small field.

Gandalf pointed to where a small wooden house was situated in the middle of the field. "There!"

Their destination was in sight. But before they could pause to catch their breath, a deafening roar sounded from further in the forest.

"RUN!"

Gandalf didn't need to tell them twice. They all broke into a run, heading for the house as another roar sounded, this one close enough to set their hearts pounding. Bombur surprised everyone by sprinting and overtaking the entire Company. Holly had heard somewhere the dwarves were natural sprinters, but she hadn't believed it until now.

They passed through the outer gate just as another roar sounded. Several snapping noises indicated that the pursuing creature had broken through the underbrush.

Bombur, Fili, and Kili slammed into the door one after another in their haste to get in the house, not realizing it was locked. The other dwarves beat on the door with their fists, trying to break it down.

"There is a _latch_, you idiots!" Holly said, but her voice was drowned out by the others' and she was too short to unlock the door herself.

Thankfully, Thorin shoved his way through the throng and managed to push the latch up with his fingertips. They ran in and tried to slam the door shut, but the beast had gotten its snout through. It snarled and snapped its fangs as the dwarves as they worked together to shove the door closed. Eventually they did manage to get it closed, and the beast gave a low growl in defeat. They listened in breathless silence as its heavy footsteps faded into the distance.

"What was that?" Ori panted once the sound had disappeared altogether.

"That...is our host," Gandalf said.

Everyone stared at him, bewildered. Holly was ready to walk away right then and there, convinced the old wizard had gone senile.

"Beorn is a skin-changer," Gandalf said, as though that cleared everything up. "Sometimes he is a huge black bear, sometimes he is a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with."

Holly wondered if the mangled body in the clearing had tried to 'reason with' Beorn.

"Get some rest, all of you. You'll be safe here tonight."

Now that she wasn't running for her life anymore, Holly felt tension return to her shoulders. The dwarves were still refraining from making eye contact with her.

_Freak_.

She stepped away from the group, the back of her throat burning. No one appeared to be paying attention, so she slipped out the back door of the house.

What an _idiot_ she'd been. She should have expected their reaction. After all, how many times had people subjected her to the same empty silence, the accusing, suspicious glances?

It wasn't supposed to _hurt_ when that happened.

Holly didn't notice Bilbo had followed her outside until he spoke. "What are you doing out here? Gandalf said we should all stay inside."

She straightened her posture, letting her features slide behind a cool mask of indifference as she turned to face him. "I'm just getting a bit of air. We...did a lot of walking today."

Bilbo nodded. "Yes, we did." He studied her face, eyebrows furrowed as though he was not satisfied with her answer. "Were you...the one that noticed that the wagon was full of bandits?"

"Yes," she replied. Why was he bringing that up?

He smiled, and the simple gesture seemed...charming, for some reason. "How do you do that? How did you figure everything out so fast?"

"Well...I observe everything. And then I rule out whatever is impossible, and whatever information is left must be true."

"That's amazing. It really is."

Holly couldn't believe it. Did he really think that? He had said something similar when they'd escaped the goblin tunnels. "You're not afraid I'm going to uncover any horrible secrets about you, then?"

"I'm a hobbit. We don't really keep secrets," Bilbo said, reaching down to fiddle with the pocket of his waistcoat. "And I don't believe you to be the person who would do something horrible anyway."

Eru help her. That was the nicest thing anyone had said to her in a long time. And he sounded..._genuine_. "Well, let's hope you're right about that," she said, cheeks flushing.

"Don't worry about the others. I'm sure they'll come round eventually."

Right...dwarves, who were known for being mistrustful and grudging. She drew her coat closer to her body. "Maybe. It won't bother me if they don't, though."

"You should give them a chance."

Holly paused. That, or she could write a book on why 'giving people chances' was a bad idea. "I'm going to get some rest." She gave Bilbo a small, hesitant smile and walked back into the house.

Well, if one good thing came out of this, Bilbo was talking to her again. Despite whatever she'd done to upset him...he had decided to give her a second chance.

Perhaps she could do the same for the dwarves.

….

A buzzing noise filled her ears. Holly squeezed her eyes shut against the sunlight, wanting to stay asleep.

A light pressure settled itself on the side of her face. She opened her eyes a bit, taking in a mass of black and yellow fur and two delicate antennae. She smiled and waited for the abnormally large bee to fly away. Even as a child, the insects had fascinated and intrigued her.

Holly sat up, rubbing one eye, then the other. The room was empty apart from the oversized bugs hovering about. Judging by the noise coming from the kitchen, everyone had congregated there.

"We cannot pass through the Wilderland without Beorn's help," Gandalf was saying as she walked in. "You'll be hunted down. Ah, Holly. There you are." Everyone turned to look at her.

"Morning." She raised her chin. Second chances or not, she wasn't going to act devastated at their reactions.

"Good morning," Bofur replied. "Sorry about what happened yesterday."

Holly blinked. "Um."

"We've never seen anything like what you did before," Balin said. "And I'm sure everyone here has things they would not want to be shared. But we should not have reacted in that way."

"I would never say anything to hurt any of you. But I'm sorry if I made you lot uncomfortable." She let out a small, relieved sigh as the dwarves nodded and turned back to Gandalf. That had gone _miles_ better than she had hoped. Bilbo caught her eye and smiled. Had he talked to the dwarves beforehand?

"Now, our host can be quite easily angered, so you must use your best manners," Gandalf said. "I will send you in groups of two and three, because he will not be pleased if we come as one large group."

"Sort of like what happened at Bilbo's house," Holly said.

Gandalf nodded and Bilbo frowned.

"Now, I will take Bilbo with me first to see Beorn," Gandalf said. "He is not entirely fond of dwarves, so you must be very gracious in his presence. Wait five minutes or so, and then send another pair after us. Holly, you should probably come as well."

The three of them exited the house and set off down a small dirt path.

_This is definitely the place the poachers tried to steal from,_ Holly affirmed, noting the considerable amount of livestock.

She turned to Bilbo. "Did you tell the others to apologize to me?"

He shook his head, his curls glinting a coppery color in the sunlight. "No, that was all them. I told you, you should give them a chance."

He was right, she'd figured that out by now. She considered telling him so, but her attention was drawn towards the remarkable figure up ahead.

Holly's eyes widened. Beorn was _massive_. He stood easily eight feet tall, with a large mane of graying hair and an air of feral intensity. He stood with his back to them, chopping wood with an axe that was longer than she was tall.

"Good morning!" Gandalf said. Beorn did not respond, electing to take another swing with his axe instead. "Good morning…" the wizard repeated.

The skin-changer propped his axe on the ground, still facing away from them. "Who are you?"

"I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Gray." He gave a gracious bow.

Beorn finally turned and glared. Holly had never seen a pair of eyebrows so _intimidating_. "Never heard of him."

"I am a wizard. Perhaps you've heard of my colleague Radagast the Brown. He resides in the southern borders of Mirkwood—"

"What do you want?"

"W-Well...to simply thank you for your hospitality. You may have noticed we took refuge in your, uh, lodgings last night…" Gandalf gestured to the house.

"And who is this little fellow?" Beorn asked, shifting his gaze to Bilbo.

"Ah, well, this would be Mr. Baggins, from the Shire." The hobbit gave a small nod in greeting.

"He's not a dwarf, is he?"

"Why, no!" Gandalf gave a small laugh as though thirteen dwarves weren't waiting inside the house at that very moment. "He's a hobbit—good family, and unimpeachable reputation."

Beorn jerked his chin in Holly's direction. "Is that your wife?"

She exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Bilbo.

"Wha—? No, no—"

"You've got it all wrong—"

"We're just, uh…" Bilbo paused, and they exchanged another glance.

"Friends?" Holly suggested.

"Friends." He turned back to Beorn. "We're just friends."

The skin-changer nodded and turned back to Gandalf. "How come you here?"

"Oh, well, the fact is, we've had a bad time of it, from goblins in the mountains—"

"What did you go near goblins for? Stupid thing to do."

Holly's lips twitched. This Beorn person was quite the character.

"You are absolutely right. You see…" Gandalf trailed off as the skin-changer lifted his axe and growled at something behind them.

Balin and Dwalin had come out of the house, nodding and smiling with their thumbs tucked into their belts.

"Oh. I, uh, must confess that several of our group are, in fact...dwarves."

"Do you call two several?" Beorn growled.

"Well. Um. We have a good deal more than two…" Gandalf trailed off as Beorn raised his axe again.

A couple more had arrived. "Oin, Gloin, at your service."  
"I don't want your service," Beorn said.

"And here are some more of our happy troop," Gandalf said, trying and failing to take control of the situation. Beorn lifted his axe again as Dori and Ori came out as well.

This went on for a while, with more service being offered and refused, until all the dwarves had introduced themselves. Then Beorn offered them breakfast and they all went back inside. Holly considered that quite generous considering they'd essentially broken into his home and locked him out. The dwarves accepted the invitation as though they hadn't raided his pantry the previous night.

Once they were all situated, Beorn addressed Thorin. "So, you are the one they call Oakenshield. Tell me, why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"

"How do you know of Azog?"

"My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the orcs came down from the north," Beorn replied, his voice falling into a darker tone. "The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved. Not for work, you understand, but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."

"There are others like you?" Bilbo asked.

"Once there were many. Now there is only one."

There was a long silence. Holly wondered how she would feel if she was the last of her kind.

_I'd be glad. All of them are idiots, anyway._

"You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn?" Beorn asked, changing the subject.

"Before Durin's Day falls, yes," Gandalf replied. Apparently he had discussed the quest with Beorn beforehand.

"You are running out of time."

Holly stabbed her roll with her fork. _Obviously_.

"That is why we must go through Mirkwood."

"A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees," Beorn said. "There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. I would not venture—"

"Necromancer?" Holly looked up.

"A human sorcerer with the power to reanimate the dead," Gandalf said.

"Yes, I know what it is. I was asking for more details."

"We know little else at this point," Gandalf said, with a _We will talk about this later_ look. He turned back to Beorn. "We will take the Elven Road. That path is still safe."

"Safe?" Beorn scoffed. "The Mirkwood Elves are not like their kin. They are less wise and more dangerous. But it matters not."

"What do you mean?" Thorin growled, already incensed from the mention of elves.

"These lands are crawling with orcs. Their numbers are growing, and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive." Several of the dwarves stiffened. "I have never liked dwarves. But you seem to be a respectable bunch, and I hate orcs more than I do dwarves. Whatever you need, I will provide."

"You should all spend the day getting ready, and rest well," Gandalf said. "Tomorrow, you will need your energy."

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Deductions are damn hard to right, let me tell you. **

**I'm going to warn y'all in advance for the obscene amount of fluff in the next chapter. Just...wait and see.**

**As always, thank you for reading and leaving a review, it helps me out a lot!**


	12. A Break in the Chain

**Chapter 12: A Break in the Chain**

"So you use flowers as a form of...communication?"

Holly shifted into a more comfortable position. She was lying under one of the large oaks in Beorn's garden, her coat bunched up under her head. Bilbo was sitting next to her, leaning against the trunk of the tree.

"Well...not exactly. Different colors have different meanings. Pink carnations are given as a show of gratitude, geraniums mean comfort..."

Holly frowned. "Why wouldn't you just tell someone what you want to say instead of giving them flowers?"

"Sometimes you can do both," Bilbo replied. "But flowers are really used for courtship."

She didn't see what that had to do with anything. "So you can't talk to someone if you're courting them?"

Bilbo gave a half-exasperated laugh. "You've never been courted, have you?"

Now it was Holly's turn to laugh. "Me? Honestly." Of all the least likely things to happen to her, courting wasn't even on the list. "I'm too short, anyway. People always mistake me for a child." Traveling with dwarves was a welcome change. It was nice to be around people that were closer to her height.

"Too short? What's that supposed to mean?"

Holly raised any eyebrow. "Well, I don't know if you've ever seen a normal-sized human, but I am in fact of a height less than average—"

"But why are you making yourself the odd one out?"

'Odd one out' was a bit of an understatement. She propped herself on one elbow to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm certain there are quite a lot of people who would consider hobbits to be too short. But we don't think of it like that. Everyone else is just extraordinarily tall. It's all a matter of perspective."

"But...it would be statistically inefficient to classify the majority as outliers."

"Can you repeat that? In Westron this time?"

Holly gave a genuine laugh this time. "Sorry. I'm just saying that when you look at the big picture, you can't just ignore that some people don't fit in. But that's just my perspective." Holly laid back down. She liked spending time with Bilbo. He wasn't as quick-witted as Nori, but he was kind, and clever, and he had a nice smile...

"Holly?"

"Hm?"

"I lost you there for a second," he replied with a half-smile. "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh. Um." What had they been talking about? Flowers. Right. "Hemlock is an extremely poisonous plant. So you could send someone hemlock flowers as a death threat."

"That's...interesting."

"If you ingest the plant it causes death by paralysis of the muscles." She wasn't about to tell Bilbo she'd been thinking about his smile, aesthetically pleasing or not. Best put it out of her head.

"Maybe we could send some to the Pale Orc." They both giggled.

And he was funny. She could add that to her list. Not that she was making one.

…

Beorn had given them supplies and horses for their journey to Mirkwood. He had also given several warnings about poisonous streams and spiders and other things. Holly hadn't really paid attention. She'd been thinking about the conversation with Gandalf she'd had earlier that day:

"Do you think this Necromancer has something to do with what happened to me? With the dark magic?" she had asked.

"I do not know. But I will look into it."

"_When_?"

"I will be leaving the company to investigate Dol Guldur before you enter Mirkwood."

Holly had crossed her arms with a wry, humorless smirk. "I'm sure the others will be thrilled about that."

"I have faith in all of you. And I believe Bilbo will be more than helpful for this part of your journey."

She wasn't quite sure what that meant. "Well, just let me know what you find."

"I will do my best to meet up with you at the foot of the Lonely Mountain."

That was a long time away. And Holly was groping in the dark with this subject, and wished someone would shed at least _some_ light on what she should be doing. The vial Elrond had given her had been a burden, but had also provided a strange kind of relief, an option already given to her. An option that was still open, but seemed a lot less inviting.

For now, though, she would have to tolerate being in the dark. There was nothing she could do, so there was no sense in worrying.

They set out a little before noon, thanking Beorn and turning east. Holly made polite small talk with some of the dwarves along the way. She really wanted to talk to Bilbo, but didn't get the chance until they arrived at Mirkwood.

Gandalf dismounted his horse and strode towards the forest. A few yards away stood an intricate gate fashioned to resemble two trees with their branches intertwined. "The Elven Gate. Here lies our path through Mirkwood."

The forest seemed to have grown out of a stagnant pond. The trees were dark and still, as though unaffected by the wind, and it smelled rather stale, even from a few yards away.

"Set the ponies loose," Gandalf said as they dismounted. "Let them return to their master."

Bilbo walked a little closer to the forest. "This forest feels...sick. As though a disease lies upon it."

"Maybe we should give it some soup and a blanket," Holly said.

He rolled his eyes and turned to Gandalf. "Is there no way around the forest?"

"Not unless we go two hundred miles north, or twice that distance south," the wizard replied.

_'We'? Has he not told them that he's going to leave yet?_

He strode past the gate to examine something as the dwarves began to unpack the ponies.

"Maybe there's something wrong with the soil," Holly said. "That would be interesting to study."

Bilbo turned to her. "Do you garden?"

"No, but I am interested in chemicals. I lived with an alchemist for a while when I was in Gondor. He sparked my interest for that sort of thing—well, not the 'elixir of life' part, but the experimentation on different substances and their properties. I like to read about that sort of thing every once in a while."

"So...you lived with this guy?"

"Yeah. I made sure he didn't blow up the house, he let me stay there," she replied, blushing a little as she met his gaze. She'd never noticed before, but his eyes were a nice shade of blue.

"And...were you friends with him? Or..."

Holly laughed. "Friend? No. He wasn't exactly right in the head. Completely harmless, but not really good for conversation."

"All right. Good. Fine."

Gandalf came back from the woods at that moment, and called out to Nori, who was unsaddling his horse, "Not my horse! I will need it."

"You're not leaving us?"

"I would not do this unless I had to," the wizard replied. "I will be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Do not enter that mountain without me." He gave Thorin a hard look. "This is not the Greenwood of old. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray."

"Lead us astray? What does that mean?"

"Hallucinations, maybe," Holly said. "I can't imagine why anyone would want to live in this place."

"You must stay on the path." Gandalf mounted his horse. "If you leave it, you will never find it again." He steered his horse southwards. "Stay on the path!" They watched him ride away.

"Come on," Thorin said. "We must reach the mountain before Durin's Day. Once we get through the forest, we will travel up the River Running, which will lead us straight to Erebor. And if the dragon is still alive—"

"Which he is," Holly said.

Thorin turned towards her, eyes hardening. "The dragon would have wasted away by now—"

"No, he is alive.". She was sure about that, and despite a strange impulse not to, she needed to assure them of this fact.

Thorin walked towards her until they stood inches apart. He towered almost half a foot above her, but it felt like more. "Do not argue with me. I do not care how clever or knowledgeable you are, you will never exceed me in wisdom. Smaug has not been seen in sixty years and it is very unlikely that he has just been _sitting around_. Even dragons get bored." With that, he spun on his heel and walked away.

Holly watched him go. _Fool_. He was just in denial.

Regardless, he would regret his lapse in judgement. She was sure of it.

…..

Stepping into Mirkwood was like stepping under a quilt on a hot day. It was muggy and stifling, with a rotten, sluggish odor pervading the air.

The Company was gloomy and quiet as they marched along in single file, squinting at the path through the dim light. Dark-colored squirrels scampered about the trees. They would've made a good meal, but moved too fast for Kili's arrows. Other creatures rustled through the undergrowth, but it was too dark to see what they were. They had to keep their focus on the roots littering the path, which seemed bent on making them trip. That was irrational, of course.

_Trees are not sentient_, Holly had to keep reminding herself.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Thorin directed them to stop. The branches overhead were too thickly packed together for them to tell what time of day it was, but everyone was too exhausted and generally low-spirited to care. It was good enough that they'd stopped to rest.

Holly noticed that the others plodded about, as though they were sleepy and only using half their brains. She, on the other hand, felt restless and stifled, her mind a wild horse trapped in a stall. Perhaps Mirkwood was stimulating her senses instead of dulling them because she was human.

She looked up and forgot her restlessness for a moment, concern washing over her. Bilbo sat a little ways off with stiff shoulders a bowed head. He was staring at the ground with such intensity that it was clear he wasn't really seeing the ground at all.

She walked over and touched him on the shoulder. "Bilbo."

He turned around, eyes wide, one hand fumbling with something in his pocket. "Oh. Um. Do you need something?"

She hesitated, then sat down next to him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, scratching his nose. "Just...a bit tired."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Oh, if you're going to lie to me, at least do a good job of it."

Bilbo sighed. "Fine. I'm...not all right." He didn't even seem mad at her for calling him out. That wasn't right. "I guess I'm just...well, I didn't expect things to be like this. I didn't know that I would end up...killing things...and now we're in a deadly forest going off to fight a dragon. I feel so...uneasy all the time. And I'm scared." Bilbo averted his eyes as though he hadn't meant to say all that.

She hadn't expected a full confession like that. And now that she knew how he felt, Holly wanted nothing more than to help him not be scared. It was almost startling how important his feelings were to her, except it wasn't. This feeling, this _caring_, had possessed her for a while now. Ever since he had almost died in the goblins' cave, she'd felt almost protective of him, yet the feeling seemed to run deeper than that. And now it was just _there_, not hiding anymore, and she had no idea what to do. So she said the first thing that came to mind.

"Do you...want me to hug you?" Holly regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. _That_ seemed like the wrong thing to say. "I mean—is that something that people do? To comfort other people?" She bit her lip, twisting the sleeves of her coat.

_Oh, Eru, this is pathetic._

Bilbo looked up at her, eyebrows raised a little. "Um...sure."

She faltered for a moment, then wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his arms going around her waist. Holly felt her cheeks grow warm. _Why_ was she feeling so strange?

They broke apart far too soon for her liking, but at the same time she wanted to go hide in the bushes. She felt...exposed.

"Thanks, for that," Bilbo said with a small smile.

Holly felt as though her face was going to catch on fire. "Of course. Anytime."

…..

_She struggled onto her hands and knees, wiping blood from her face._

_"Holly..." A menacing voice echoed in her skull, making her vision pulse red. She flinched and tried to stand, wanting to get away—_

_A swift kick to her ribs forced her back to the ground._

_"Do not tell them." The voice had changed to a low, threatening growl._

_"D-Don't tell them what?" she choked out._

_"You _don't_ tell them."_

_Every nerve in her body was on fire, the pain tearing through flesh and muscle and veins and Holly screamed, wanting it to be over, for it to just end—_

Holly woke with her hand clamped over her mouth. She looked around at the others to see if she had woken them with a real scream. She hadn't, seeing as the others were still asleep. Fili, who was on watch, gave her a curious look.

"You all right, Holly?"

"I'm fine." She took her hand away from her face. "Bad dream." She rolled over, trying to quell her trembling.

She hadn't had a dream like that since she'd left Gondor. Holly usually did whatever the voice said to do, and the dreams would stop, but she didn't know what this one was saying. What was she not supposed to say?

_Just keep your mouth shut and you'll be fine._

Trying to shake the feeling that someone was watching her, Holly went back to sleep.

**Fluff like I promised! I am so pumped for what's gonna come next. Mirkwood is honestly such an amazing plot point. And y'all just wait till Thranduil enters the picture.**

**I got a lot of feedback last chapter, which I'm so happy about! I was honestly really nervous about posting it, but I'm glad you all seemed to like it! Go ahead and leave a comment, it helps me out a lot!**


	13. Her Darkest Hour

**Chapter 14**

The Company had been traveling for a few days…probably. It was hard to keep track, seeing as their dreary routine—wake up, eat, walk, rest, eat, sleep, repeat— hardly varied. And the scenery changed about as much as a painting; the same ghostly eyes peered out from the same gnarled trees as though they were walking through the same landscape again and again. The only thing assuring them that they weren't reliving the same day over and over was the steady decrease of their food supply.

Holly's patience was wearing thin. Their journey through the forest had been boring and predictable. She missed the excitement, the blood pumping through her veins, the thrill of being _alive_. It was funny how frequent near-death situations made living all the more satisfying. Being in Mirkwood was like being half-dead, in a restless, trapped sort of way. It didn't help that all the dwarves wanted to talk about was how dark and stuffy it was, and how hungry they were. If there was one thing Holly hated, it was complaining.

She must have been scowling too much because Bilbo pointed it out to her one day.

"You hate this, don't you?"

"Hate is a very strong word...but aptly used in this case," she replied with a grimace.

He sighed and nodded. "I know what you mean. I feel like this place is suffocating me."

"Hm. Speaking of suffocation…" She stopped to examine a spiderweb clinging to a nearby tree. "These strands are really thick."

"...What does that have to do with suffocation?"

"Well, if a spider wrapped you up in this, you wouldn't last very long. Assuming it didn't eat you right away."

"That's a comforting thought." Bilbo moved next to her to get a better look at the web.

Holly felt a heat on her neck that had nothing to do with how stuffy Mirkwood was. Just being in close proximity with the hobbit made it hard to breathe a little, and everything seem so _hot_. Holly had already ruled out pneumonia, the flu, tuberculosis, and all other possible illnesses she might have and was beginning to fear what she was experiencing ran deeper than that. She added it to her list of 'Big Problems I Don't Know How to Deal With' and ignored it. Or tried to, anyway—it was proving to be very difficult at the moment.

"Do you think we'll run into any spiders?" Bilbo's voice broke Holly from her thoughts.

"Hm? Uh, it's possible, I suppose."

"Oh, we should probably…" The others had already moved further down the path while they had been talking.

"Right. Of course." _Pull yourself together, Holly._

After a few more hours of silent trudging, they came to a stream, which was really more of a very wide swamp. Tendrils of foul-smelling fog rose from the blackened surface.

"You could probably poison someone with that water," Holly pointed out.

"Indeed, we would do best not to swim in it," Thorin agreed. "Can anyone see the other side?"

"I can," Bilbo said, squinting through the fog. "It's about twelve yards away. And there's a small boat on the opposite bank. We could probably use it to get across."

"On the _opposite bank_, of course," Gloin grumbled.

"How are we going to get it over here?" Kili asked.

"We'll use a hook and a rope to pull it over," Thorin said. "Fili, come here. You have the second best eyesight. See if you can snag the boat and pull it across."

They all stepped back as Fili whirled the hook a couple of times, then tossed it into the fog.

"I think I got it," he announced.

"It's inside the boat," Bilbo confirmed. "Just pull it 'till it snags the edge—careful!—all right, that should be good."

Fili tugged on the rope, which pulled taut and didn't budge. "It must be tied to the bank. Kili, Gloin, come help me."

It took the three of them to pull the boat free of its restraints. Once they accomplished that, Thorin grouped them in pairs to go on the boat. Being the lightest meant Holly had to go last with Bombur, the heaviest member of the Company.

Everything went smoothly until only Holly and Bombur were left on the bank.

"Why do I always have to go last?" he grumbled as they climbed into the boat.

"Would you rather you were the first to die on this quest?" she shot back irritably.

They were nearly at the opposite bank when Holly began to regret her statement. There was a loud rustling and cracking sound coming from behind the group on the bank. They turned towards the sound as it became louder.

"What is that?"

"Get back!" Thorin cried as something big and white crashed onto the path. They dove to the side as it charged forward and leapt over the swamp.

Bombur jumped, startled, and keeled over backwards. Holly caught a glimpse of antlers overhead as the boat began to tilt dangerously.

Thorin grabbed her arm and yanked her onto the bank as the boat turned over completely. Dwalin and Bifur went to help Bombur, who had been completely submerged.

"Th-Thanks," Holly gasped, scooting back from the edge of the bank. She could swim, so she wasn't worried about drowning, but she knew that would have been the least of her worries. Sure enough, when they managed to pull Bombur out, Dori let out a cry of dismay.

"Oh, he's fast asleep!"

Bilbo helped her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she replied, a little breathless as she met his gaze.

Bilbo realized he was still holding Holly's hand and quickly let go. "Okay, good."

Meanwhile, Bombur would still not wake up, despite everyone's best efforts. Oin concluded that it must have been some sort of enchanted sleep from falling in the swamp.

"What should we do?" Gloin turned to Thorin.

"We'll have to carry him for now, and hope he wakes up soon."

"At least he won't be eating any more food for the time being," Bofur pointed out optimistically.

This hardly boosted anyone's mood, the dwarves opting to complain even more about having to carry the sleeping dwarf.

After only a few hours, Thorin ordered them to stop and rest for the night. Nearly everyone sat down without complaint, Bofur putting Bombur down with no small amount of relief, but Holly remained standing.

"What? It's only been a few hours," she protested. "We should keep going."

"All of us are tired, and it is close to nighttime," Thorin said with a warning look.

"Oh, it's _always_ close to nighttime in here, as far as we can tell! At this rate, we'll never—"

"Sit. Down." Thorin glared.

She hissed in irritation, but sat down next to Nori. Thorin's judgement was usually correct, and her desire to keep moving was partly because she was scared of going to sleep. She hadn't had any nightmares since the first, but felt a lurking presence in the back of her mind that had her waking up tightly wound and nervous. It was irrational to think putting off sleep another hour would be any better, but then fear itself is incredibly irrational.

Holly considered talking to someone about it and asking for help. She detested the thought, preferring to handle her problems on her own, but the idea didn't seem entirely out of the question after everything that had transpired between her and the Company. She wasn't sure all of them liked her, and she wouldn't blame them if they didn't, but she could depend on Bilbo and Nori, and probably even Dori to talk to her.

Talking to Bilbo probably wasn't the best idea, though. Holly still didn't know how to deal with her feelings for him, and spending time with the hobbit would only make her more confused. She cared about him a great deal, but in her experience, caring about others never really seemed to pay off. The whole deal was entirely inconvenient and more than bothersome, so she put it out of her mind and fell into an uneasy sleep.

…...

Bombur woke up the next morning, moaning that he'd been woken up from dreams of huge feasts and good wine. His mood only became worse when Balin informed him that they had run out of food.

"I'm so tired...I don't want to walk," he lamented.

"Well, we have spent enough of our energy carrying you. You'll have to use your feet for once," Thorin growled in response.

But everyone just stood there, not quite ready to start walking again. It was a tantalizing idea, to just go back to sleep. After all, dream-feasts were better than no feasts.

"Well, are we going to go or not?" Holly prompted. The dwarves stirred, nodding slowly and mumbling about being sleepy. "Let's go!" She sighed, annoyed. What was wrong with them? They were all just _standing_ there. A wave of contempt and spite overtook her, and she snapped, "Really? Look at yourselves. You all look so vacant. Is it nice, being so empty in the head?"

Bilbo caught her eye and frowned slightly.

"Oh. Uh, sorry," she continued in what she hoped was a nicer tone. "But we really have to start walking if we want to get out of here."

"When are we going to get out of here?" Bofur mumbled. "This forest goes on _forever_."  
"Well, I don't know, do I look like a damned prophet to you? Come on!"

Eventually she got them walking again, though it took a great amount of willpower not to just start shouting. It would be easier to get _goldfish_ to listen to her.

Holly jumped as Nori clapped her on the back from behind. The impact wasn't even that hard, but she'd been feeling high-strung ever since entering the forest.

"How are you holding up, Miss Bad-Tempered?"

She grunted in lieu of a reply. She felt a little bad about her outburst earlier, and hoped he wasn't mad at her. "Are you still half asleep?"

Nori grinned, but his eyes were tired. "I think we all are."

They walked in silence for a bit. Holly was happy to be talking to him again—she hadn't really done so in a while. It wasn't that she didn't want to, it just hadn't occurred to her to do so in light of recent events. And by 'recent events', she meant...

"You fancy Bilbo, don't you?"

Holly felt her heart skip a beat as she turned to look at Nori. "What?"

"You two have been practically inseparable since we got to Beorn's—"

"Well, obviously we have to stay in a group—"

"—and you always get all blushy and smiley whenever you talk to him—"

"Those aren't even real words—"

"—and I see the way you look at him." Nori gave her a knowing look. "That's three signs right there."

She gave a resigned sigh. "Is it really that obvious?"

"Indeed it is."

Holly shoved her hands further in her coat pockets. "I don't see how this is relevant to our current situation."

"You should tell him."

_Tell him? _Holly bit her lip. The idea hadn't really occurred to her.

"What happens if I tell him?"

Nori raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

_Rejection. _

She doubted that would happen, or at least hoped that it wouldn't. But didn't he get cross with her on a fairly regular basis? That didn't seem like a sign of reciprocated feelings.

"I don't know. I'll...think about it."

That seemed to be the only thing she was successful at.

…..

They were almost out of the forest when things started to go terribly wrong.

Well, they hadn't known that they were almost out, which had probably contributed to some of their problems.

The Company had been trudging along as they had been doing for the past...forever, when Nori, who was leading the group, abruptly stopped.

"What's happening?" Oin demanded as everyone bumped into each other, not having the proper reflexes to stop soon enough.

"Nori, why have we stopped?" Thorin called to the front.

"The path...it's disappeared!" the ginger dwarf replied, the beginnings of panic evident in his voice.

Holly pushed her way to the front of the line, irritated. "Paths don't just disappear. That's the whole _point_ of...oh." She stopped and stared. The dirt path simply vanished a few feet ahead, leaving only thick undergrowth and charcoal-colored trees ahead. Over the past few days it had started to twist and turn instead of leading in a straight line, so they were completely in the dark (literally and figuratively) as to where to go next.

Nori nudged her. "You thought I was lying?"

"What do we do?" Dwalin turned to Thorin, as did everyone else.

For a tense moment, he looked almost stunned. A few of the dwarves exchanged glances. Without their leader's guidance, the situation seemed even more hopeless.

"We should try and find the path," Ori piped up. "Maybe it picks up further on!"

"Oh, what good is that? We'll never make it out of this cursed forest!" Gloin fumed.

Dori stepped in to defend his brother, and soon all of the dwarves were engaged in a full blown fracas, shouting and pushing each other around.

Holly was just about at her wit's end with all of them. They were being so _loud_ that surely every beast in the forest would come and attack them, if only to get some damned peace and quiet. She could hardly _think_ for all the noise they were making, and if she couldn't think, she couldn't find a way to get out of here.

"Shut up, everyone, just _shut up_!" she shouted. "Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe, I'm trying to _think_!" She let out a huff as the dwarves became quiet, turning to face her. "All right...no, stop glaring at me like that, it's putting me off." She didn't even care if they were mad. They got what they deserved for being such damned idiots. Holly sighed, closing her eyes, then opened them after a moment and addressed the group. "We were heading east, so if we know where that is, we'll at least know the correct direction to go."

"If we find where the sun is, we'll know which way is east," Bilbo said.

"Yes, good," she praised, glad that at least _someone_ had their wits about them.

"One of us should climb a tree and see where we are, then," Thorin stated, taking control of the situation once more.

By 'one of us', he obviously meant their burglar. Reluctantly, the hobbit let Dori and Kili boost him up into the nearest tree, and soon disappeared into the upper boughs.

They stood around in stifled, tense silence, waiting for Bilbo to come back down and report his findings. He was gone for a long time, long enough that Holly began to worry.

"Maybe we should check if he's all ri—"

"Do you see that? A light!" Balin pointed at something far off in the trees.

They all turned, and sure enough, there was a small cluster of white lights in the distance. It glared at them through the gloom, almost blinding after days of fumbling through near-darkness.

"Perhaps someone's come to help us!" Kili exclaimed.

"Yes, I can see them coming towards us!" Holly said.

"You can?" Kili asked hopefully.

"No. It probably doesn't concern us at all. We should wait here for Bilbo to come back—"

"They might be able to help us," Thorin interrupted, striding a little ways towards the lights.

"Or kill us," Holly countered, crossing her arms. Despite her best judgement, she _wanted_ an argument with the dwarf king. It seemed like an easy outlet for the pent-up frustration she'd been harboring for days.

The dwarf turned to her with a glare. "We will die of starvation here if we don't look for help. And we are fully capable of defending ourselves in case of an attack."

She stared back at him. "Fine." It would be best not to have a confrontation with him despite her current feelings. The last two had ended badly enough, and she could see that he had already made up his mind at this point. "I'll wait here, and stay out of the way." Holly said the words slowly, mockingly. If she couldn't argue with him, she could at least get under his skin.

Thorin nodded once. "Just stay put." He led the rest of the Company off the path and towards the lights.

Holly walked back over to the tree Bilbo had climbed up. "Bilbo?" she called. "Are you there?"

Silence.

Dread pooled in her stomach. What was taking him so long? He should have been back by now. If something had happened...

She paced back and forth across the path, impatient. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to have the Company split up.

She turned back around to where the dwarves had gone and her eyes widened. The lights had gone out.

"Idiots!" she hissed. "The whole damned lot of you!"

Cold dread trickled down her spine. _Stay on the path_, Gandalf had instructed, and she'd just let them go. The dwarves could be lost or dead, for all she knew. Holly felt an overwhelming urge to confirm whether they were dead or not, but at the same time she need to know that Bilbo was okay. She turned back to the tree, torn.

They were gone, he was gone, this was just like the day her father had—

"No, stop, this isn't…" Holly dug the tips of her fingers into her temples, trying not to remember.

She couldn't handle it, she couldn't lose them, it was all just _too much_—

_Stop panicking. Stay focused._

She took a deep breath and swallowed with difficulty. This forest was getting to her, whether she cared to admit it or not. And before she could help her friends, she had to help herself.

But she couldn't calm down. The image of Bilbo falling into the chasm in the goblins' lair came into her mind and she winced. Her pulse raced and her hands shook, and all she could think of was Bilbo or Nori or any of the others dying, and she couldn't do a thing about it—

_Calm down. If you keep going on like this, you won't be able to get anything done._

Holly pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, trying to relax. She imagined herself freezing over like the Long Lake during really cold winters, becoming cold and solid and perfectly still. After a while, her heartbeat slowed to an acceptable pace.

Holly let out a quavering sigh. _Finally._ Now, she needed to figure out who to get to first, and how.

She looked up, hearing someone cry out from above.

The ice shattered.

"Bilbo!" she shouted, running up to the tree, looking for a branch that she could reach so she could climb up and help him. She _had_ to help him. Holly winced at several loud thumping noises, like something heavy hitting the tree branches, then silence. She stepped back, ears ringing. "Bilbo!" she shouted again. Had he fallen?

The undergrowth rustled, the sound accompanied by a clicking noise. Holly watched, frozen, as several giant spiders appeared, hissing and clacking their fangs together.

Tendrils of panic began to wind themselves around her chest. It was obvious the spiders were going to kill and eat her. Perhaps more of them had gone after Bilbo and the others. Regardless of how they had fared against the beasts, Holly knew she was going to die. There was no one there to save her, and she couldn't save herself. She didn't know how.

What Holly wished for, at that moment, was a friend. Not a weapon or some way to escape (though those would be really nice as well). She wanted someone to be with her as she faced down the group of giant spiders.

Holly realized that she _needed_ the Company. She needed the dwarves, she needed Bilbo, she needed them to fill the place in her life that had been empty for so long. Since they'd entered Mirkwood, they had all been so _slow_, and it had irritated her, but now she was terrified and utterly lost without them.

Of course, no one came as Holly stumbled back, trying to keep a reasonable distance between herself and the spiders. The one in front snarled and reared back on its hind legs. She gasped and, embarrassingly, tripped over a root. The world tilted as she fell backwards and kept right on going, tumbling down a steep slope.

_Damn, I hate falling,_ she thought as her skull collided with something hard.

….

Holly was conscious, but barely—her hearing was weirdly muffled and her vision was blurry. She could hear a rustling noise, but it sounded so far away. Perhaps the dwarves were coming to help her?

"Ow," she whimpered, bringing a hand to the side of her pounding head and wincing.

All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for the Company to come help her, but the rustling noise was getting louder, accompanied by angry clicking noises.

She tried to stand, but a stab of pain in the side of her skull forced her back to the ground.

"P-Piss off," she muttered, scrambling away from the spiders. Why was she moving so slowly?

_Get up! Where is your common sense? Don't die like this!_

The spiders hissed angrily, though the noise seemed very far away. A wave of nausea curled through her stomach and her shaking arms finally gave out. Holly collapsed on the forest floor.

_Get UP! You need to concentrate!_

She gasped at a stinging sensation on her cheek. Like a slap to the face, it had cleared her senses a little. She could see vague dark shapes that must have been the spiders retreating back into the woods, and wondered why.

Then she saw where she was.

Great brambles with thorns as big as her head curled and twined overhead and around. The spiders had probably left for fear of getting impaled. How had she crawled into the midst of this and _not_ been skewered?

Holly touched her cheek where one of the dull green-tinged thorns had grazed her. Her hand came back covered in wet crimson.

No doubt the cut was bleeding more than it should due to the adrenaline racing through her veins and increasing her blood flow. But she wasn't thinking about that. All she could think about was the rest of the Company. They weren't coming to help her, meaning they had to be either lost or dead.

And Holly was alone.

**So I put a lot of content from the book in this chapter because what Jackson did with Mirkwood making everyone high was literally the dumbest thing I've ever seen. Makes for great parody material though, for those of you that have read that thing that I wrote.**

**Regardless of the changes I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! We get to see Holly become a little more vulnerable and also an extreme bitch (don't worry, karma is also a bitch and it will be comin' round in a couple of chapters).**

**Please leave a review and tell me what you think, it helps me out a lot! And thank you to everyone who has already given their support! It means a lot to me!**


	14. Mirkwood

**Chapter 15**

"_There is a wisdom of the head, and a wisdom of the heart." —Charles Dickens_

Holly couldn't move for a long time. She sat there immobilized, blankly staring ahead, arms wrapped around her legs as blood trickled down her face.

Everything had fallen apart in a matter of minutes. She should have persuaded the dwarves to wait for Bilbo. They might have been able to help him fight off the spiders. But she'd been too concerned with antagonizing Thorin to think about that.

Her head ached and buzzed, leaving a thick haze of disorientation behind. She couldn't think. And she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her.

_Think, think, think…_

"What?" Holly said aloud.

_There's something you're forgetting. Try using that useless brain of yours for once._

"Fantastic, now I have a voice in my head," she announced to the empty, cloying air. At least she wasn't alone anymore, she thought with a pang.

_The rest of the Company is dead. They can't help you now._

"They're _not_ dead," she protested, denial welling up in her throat. Panic was beginning to settle in her stomach again. "Don't assume someone is dead unless you see a body." It was a logical argument and it brought a great deal of comfort to Holly. Of course that was what she had been missing—she couldn't just give up without verifying the reason for doing so.

The word _closure_ tickled the back of her mind, and the promptly pushed it away.

Holly inched through the thicket of huge, curving thorns, careful not to let any scratch her, though a few of the thorns snagged her coat. She stood up and brushed herself off, feeling a bit less hopeless.

_Never assume someone is dead unless you see a body_, she repeated silently to herself as she scaled the slope she'd fallen down. There was always the chance that the Company was simply lost, and if she managed to find them—

"_Damn it!_" Holly grit her teeth, ire and despair storming through her chest as she reached the top of the slope. The path was nowhere to be found. Where flattened dirt had once been, there was only tree roots and slimy-leaved bushes.

It was impossible for a path to simply not be there anymore—it was impossible. Illogical. But Mirkwood seemed to have a tendency to destroy all foundations of normalcy and stability that she'd managed to erect in her mind.

"Okay…I can deal with this..."

_You won't be dealing with anything if you just stand there._

"Shut up," Holly growled, but began walking in a random direction—it didn't matter since she was lost anyway. At least she had some semblance of a guide. The voice in her head was strangely familiar, as though it had always been there and she was just now beginning to listen. She didn't dwell on it, though, passing it off as another side-effect of being in Mirkwood too long. She tried not to think about what would happen if she ended up being trapped in the forest forever.

_Insanity, probably. If you don't starve first._

"Shut _up_," she muttered.

There was a split-second creak of a bowstring and the dim glint of an arrow being pointed at her face.

"Don't move."

Holly stepped back abruptly, too surprised to gasp, then relaxed as the elf stepped into view. Finally, some company. She raised her hands in surrender as another elf moved beside the first, his bow drawn as well.

"What business have you in Mirkwood?" the first one demanded.

"I...I'm looking for my dwarves and a hobbit. Have you seen them?" Holly stared into the elf's distrustful hazel eyes, trying to pretend that her entire world didn't hang on the balance of this one answer. She couldn't ignore the tightness in her chest, however.

The elf considered her for a moment, then said, "This way." He gestured through the trees with his arrow, indicating for her to follow.

So they knew who she was talking about. That much was clear, but the Company could still be dead for all she knew.

Holly followed the elf, the other one behind her, likely aiming an arrow at her back. As her adrenaline drained away, exhaustion began to set in, seeping through her veins like water weighing down a drowning man's clothes. She tried not to stumble as the underbrush snagged on the hem of her dress.

Eventually the sound of voices filtered through the air. At first there was just the light, musical tones of elves, but then Holly heard a distinctly rougher reply that sounded like Gloin's voice. Her heart leapt. So they _were_ alive. Holly ducked under a low-hanging tree branch and stepped into a clearing. The Company was in a tight cluster in the middle, emanating hostility like thick smoke as other elves moved among them, searching the dwarves for weapons.

She took in the bits of spider web on their clothing and the spider carcasses littered around the clearing. One of the carcasses was merely a torso, trails of sticky blood leading to eight detached limbs surrounding it. So they had run into the spiders, but hadn't had half as much trouble dealing with them as she had.

One of the elves grabbed her by the arm and led her to where the dwarves were standing. They were focused on being belligerent with the elves and hadn't noticed her yet. Holly took a hesitant step forward, not quite sure how to make herself known—they hadn't parted on the best of terms. Perhaps she should tap one of them on the shoulder—?

Dori caught sight of her first. "Holly!" he cried, pulling her further into their little group. "Are you hurt, lass? You're bleeding!" He took out a handkerchief that had somehow managed to stay on his person and began wiping her face with it.

Pain erupted in her cheek like the slash of a white-hot poker and she pulled away with a gasp, shielding the wound with her hand.

"Oh, it's only a scratch," Dori scolded, tugging her hand away.

She saw there was fresh blood staining her fingers. "A scratch that should've stopped bleeding already." She winced. The thorns had been tinged an unnaturally bright green, indicative of only one thing. "Poison, probably."

"Poison?" Dori demanded. "Did those _elves_ do something to you?"

"No, obviously not. If an elf attacked me I'd be walking away—or not—with a bit more than a scratch."

The dwarf simply rolled his eyes at her tone. "We'll get Oin to have a look at you."

"Okay," Holly said in a gentler voice.

She glanced over at the elf that had found her. He was speaking to a blond one (bright hair, intricate clothing, well-made bow—obviously high-ranking among his kind). They both turned and looked at her, their expressions uneasy. She frowned back. Perhaps they thought her choice of traveling companions was odd.

She turned back to Dori. "Where's Bilbo?" He scanned their little group for the hobbit, and she mirrored his movements. With an awful dropping feeling in her gut, she realized he wasn't among them. "Where _is_ he?"

"He was with us, when we were fighting off the spiders," Dori answered, still looking around (though probably to avoid her demanding gaze).

"And now he's not. Where did he go?"

_Shut _up_. Stop panicking._

Holly grit her teeth to avoid lashing out at the voice in her head. She _really_ hoped it was only a temporary effect of Mirkwood.

Dori put a comforting hand on her arm. "Don't worry, lass. I'm sure Bilbo can handle himself just fine."  
He had a point. Bilbo was definitely stronger, wiser, and braver than the hobbit he'd been when she had first met him, the hobbit that worried over handkerchiefs and buttons. The thought brought an uncomfortable twinge to her chest. If he was hurt…

"Line up and start walking," the blond elf commanded. "If you try anything, we will not hesitate to put an arrow through you." He turned to the other elves. "Ewenno hain!"

Holly gingerly wiped more blood off her face. It was beginning to drip down onto her coat collar. Was it possible to bleed out from a shallow cut?

As they walked the air became cooler and less heavy. The trees began to thin, then disappeared entirely as they entered a cool glade with a creek running through it. Holly noted the water was a natural color. Apparently the disease of Mirkwood did not extend to its elven realm.

Across a stone bridge, the opposite bank of the creek rose sharply into a bluff that stretched above the treetops. Two large stone doors were set in the rock face, and they opened as the group drew near.

"Holo in ennyn," the blonde elf commanded as they passed through the doors.

Holly shot one last glance at the shrouded forest behind her as the doors began to swing shut. Wherever Bilbo was...she prayed that he would be safe.

…

"This is not the end of it! You hear me?"

"Let us out of here!"  
They had been in confinement for half an hour and the dwarves were already trying to negotiate their way out of the elven dungeons. Well, the term 'negotiate' was a bit of a stretch, unless dwarven diplomatic strategies involved cursing in Khudzul and slamming up against cell doors.

Holly felt a weak urge to tell them to shut up, and that it was no use trying to break out, but she stayed silent. She was half-afraid that if she tried to speak she would break down again. The way she had lost control left her feeling exhausted and rather ashamed. Thankfully no one had been there to see it.

"How's your cheek, Holly?" Dori asked from the front of the cell.

She touched it lightly. It was still tender, but the elves given her something to counteract the poison that was keeping her blood from clotting. "Good. Thank you." It meant a lot to Holly that the dwarf was always looking out for her, more than she was willing to admit. Just the simple way in which he cared for her gave her a comfort that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Holly felt herself relax a little. Even if they were to be stuck here forever, it wouldn't be that much of a loss. She had her friends, and that was far more important to her than the quest was. She just didn't want to be alone. The thought made her heart twinge as she thought of Bilbo. Wherever he was, she hoped he was alive at the very least.

…

Bilbo was very much alive, but he felt absolutely miserable. He was hungry, exhausted, and lost. There had been enormous spiders, tons of them, that had wrapped the dwarves in webs and been planning to eat them. Bilbo had nearly been eaten himself trying to rescue them. Then they had been separated in the ensuing battle against the giant arachnids and he had only found them after they had been captured by the elves. He'd come so close to being shut out from the elven kingdom, to having the doors close in his face, leaving him trapped and alone. As it was, Bilbo had managed to slip in, but he was still alone.

But what bothered him the most was that he was forced to skulk around the halls like a thief (_or a burglar_, he thought wryly). Which meant he was forced to keep his ring on at all times, to avoid being seen. He wouldn't have minded that—the ring was his only comfort and security in this strange place—except, as the days wore on, keeping it on felt _wrong_. The security he felt was countered by a nagging unease and dark whispers in the middle of the night which left him with a headache and the constant feeling of being watched.

This went on for around two weeks, and it was during this time that Bilbo's homesickness came back with a vengeance. He missed his fireplace, and his pantry, and his armchair… Bilbo didn't want to admit it, but he was starting to regret coming on this adventure. He missed not feeling lost.

Or perhaps he was just scared. Going back seemed a much more enticing option than admitting what lay ahead—he would have to find a way to rescue the dwarves from their prison.

…..

Holly glared at the ceiling outside the cell, where stray beams of light peeked through gaps in the carved stone. She could faintly see the outline of crimson leaves and a patch of frost-colored sky. Eru knows what the elves did when it rained.

Two weeks. Two weeks they had been trapped in here. Thorin had been to some sort of diplomatic meeting with the king (which involved more cursing in Khudzul, if the aftermath was anything to go by). Somehow he'd managed to botch things up so badly that they were forbidden from leaving Mirkwood forever, unless one of them decided to cooperate.

Which meant, if the stubbornness of dwarves was anything to go by, that they would not be leaving at all.

She could hear one of the dwarves trying to get her attention, but ignored whoever it was. Whatever he had to say couldn't be that important.

Perhaps the elves would consider her a weak link of some sort and be questioned about their purposes in the forest. After all, she was both a human and a woman and would therefore be expected to have a weaker will and lesser intelligence. Neither of those applied to her, of course, but they didn't know that. If she was questioned perhaps she could manipulate the king into letting them go, somehow. But that would depend on what kind of person he was.

A sharp poke to her side jolted her out of her thoughts.

She let out an irritated huff. Whatever Dori wanted could wait. It wasn't like she was going anywhere. "I'm trying to _think._ You would think being in a dungeon all day long would provide the opportunity to—" Holly turned and her voice died as she saw none other than Bilbo peering at her through the cell bars.

"I've been trying to get your attention for a while now," he said somewhat bemusedly.

"Bilbo." She glanced over at Dori. He was sleeping at the back of the cell. She turned back to the hobbit. "How did you get in here?"

His eyes flickered to the dungeon entrance. "They're, ah, not as secure as they think."

Holly let out a sigh of relief. He was _safe._ "Oh. Well. That's good. You're planning on helping us escape, I hope?"

"Yeah, that's what I want to talk to you about."

"You have a plan already?" She shifted onto her knees, leaning a hand on one of the bars of the door.

"I _need_ a plan," Bilbo corrected, eyes flickering to the entrance again. "And since you're the cleverest person I know I thought I might as well ask you about it."

Holly couldn't help but blush at the compliment. "I see. Well, you would need to create some sort of distraction so we don't have to worry about the guards. You could put something in their food, maybe start a plague or something—"

"I'm not starting a plague, Holly. But, um, it's a start."

"Right. Elves don't easily get sick anyway." She thought for a moment, willing her cheeks to stay a normal color. "Lighting a fire would be a suitable distraction. And wine is very flammable; you could use that to spread the fire—"

"Holly." Bilbo put his hand on hers, effectively shutting her up. "No disease, and no fire. We're going for something something a little less...harmful."

The dwarves' antagonism towards the elves had probably rubbed off on her. She sighed. "This would be easier I could see how the castle is laid out. Not much use being clever if I'm stuck in here."

"You're doing fine. You know, I did hear one of the elves mention a feast tonight. That could be our distraction."

Holly nodded. "Try and find out who's going to be there. And see if you can find the keys to the cells."

He took his hand away. "I'll try and do that. Wish me luck."

"You'll be able to do this all without getting caught?" she asked.

He nodded and it suddenly became apparent to her how tired he looked. She took in the slightly gray pallor of his skin, the way his curls hung limply on his forehead. "You look terrible."

Bilbo frowned. "Thanks?"

She grimaced inwardly. _Brilliant._ "No, what I meant was...you don't look well."

He seemed taken aback at her concern. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired, is all. Don't worry about me."

As if she could help it. "All right. I'll...see you later, I suppose."

"Yeah."

She watched him step out of sight, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Hopefully it wouldn't always be so nerve-wracking to talk to Bilbo.

_You should tell him,_ Nori had said.

If she told Bilbo about her feelings, things between them would change. That was what she wanted, wasn't it? She would have to think about it.

Sharp footsteps halted outside the cell door. Holly looked up. The blond elf from before was staring at her coolly.

Or not.

"King Thranduil wishes to speak with you."

**Eyyy did anyone notice the symbolism of Holly getting scratched by a thorn? (hint: thorns are commonly found on _ which symbolize _) so yes i do work on this story sometime**

**after crying over the BOFA trailer I descended into insanity and ****stayed up until midnight trying to finish Chapter 16. Which I did, and you will all hate me for what I wrote. I've also been playing Atlantiles on Webkinz so much that I hallucinate about fish.**

**wake me up (wake me up inside)**

**i can't wake up (wake me up inside)**

**In other news, leave comment and maybe i will feel normal again inside**


	15. The Episode of the Barrels

**Chapter 15**

_The Soul unto itself_

_Is an imperial friend—_

_Or the most agonizing Spy—_

_An Enemy—could send—_

_Secure against its own—_

_No treason it can fear—_

_Itself—its Sovereign—of itself_

_The Soul should stand in Awe—_

King Thranduil had a poised, calculating air about him, similar to that of a serpent. Holly recognized his facial features immediately—he had to be directly related to the blond elf from earlier. That confirmed her deduction from earlier that the elf was high-ranking.

"You wished to see me? Y-Your majesty?" Holly asked in a soft voice, looking at the king through the tops of her eyes. The elf was smart, that much was clear, but she wanted to know _how_ smart.

"You can cut the act," Thranduil replied lazily. "I want to know why you are here."

Oh, he was _clever_. Clever enough to see through her pretense of innocence. This would require a change of plans "I didn't have that much of a choice in the matter," she replied in an equally languid tone. "I'm sure your guards can give you a more detailed report."

Thranduil raised his eyebrows a fraction, considering her. "You misunderstand me." He stood up and descended the stairs from his throne to where she stood. "A human woman traveling with a band of dwarves. I'm sure you can see why that would come across as a...strange situation."

"Mm. Certainly. But I'm afraid I can't tell you what we were doing in Mirkwood. You know how secretive dwarves can be."

"Oh, I've already guessed the nature of your quest," the elven king said, beginning to pace back and forth. Holly wasn't surprised. She was still just testing the waters. "A crusade to slay a dragon and reclaim Erebor."

Holly nodded. "Now is that what you wanted to talk about or are you just showing off?"

"There is nothing more I could learn from you in that regard." Thranduil leaned forward, his icy gaze boring into her. "I'm more curious about who you are."

"Who do you think I am?" _Take the bait…_

He considered her, poised like a snake ready to strike. "You'd be surprised how often a facade turns out to be nothing more than a reflection of the self."

"You think I'm a frightened little girl?"

"Not quite. I think you're far more helpless than you'd like to admit. I know what it looks like when someone has been burned. I can see how fragile you are."

Holly ignored the sting of his words. "Of course you would know what being burned looks like. You've been burned too—though in the more literal sense."

He said nothing, but his intense gaze prompted her to continue.

"You favor your right side when you sit, but you walk normally, suggesting an injury in your torso. Limited movement in your arm indicates restriction due to severe burn scars. I would say damage to the tendons or muscles in your shoulder, but that sort of injury likely would have killed you instead. Therefore, I conclude that you suffered burns to the left side of your upper body," she finished coolly.

"Very clever," Thranduil said after a long silence. "And you are right. I was burned."

"Of course I'm right," she replied dismissively. "Though what could have caused such severe damage to you, I have no idea."

"You want to know how I got these scars?" Thranduil asked softly. The left side of his face warped and twisted to reveal scarred muscle and a blank, unseeing eye—years of pain, hidden behind a mask. "Are you truly so ignorant of what has brought this upon me?" The elf's voice became lower, more dangerous, as he advanced toward her. He stopped inches away, so Holly had to lean her head up to meet his eyes. "_Dragon fire_."

Oh, she'd touched a nerve. Good.

He stepped back, the smooth mask asserting itself once again. She was almost impressed with the iron grip he had on his emotions.

"But I suppose you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Know all about—what?" What did he mean by that? The change of topic had caught her off guard, but that didn't explain the tremor down her spine as he said the words.

The elf's eyes glinted dangerously. "Do not play games with me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she responded coldly. "Please do explain."

"_I know the wrath of a dragon better than most_." Now Thranduil was staring at her with a disconcerting intensity that went beyond cold contempt. "I have seen fire, and I have felt it on my own flesh. Do not try and lie to me.

"Now tell me…" It was almost poetic, the way he had gained his composure, disinterest taking over his features once more. His cool stare smoothly quelled the brief display of emotion. "Who is it that would send a _dragon_ into my realm? Who are you working for?"

Holly surprised herself with a bark of laughter. "I've been called many things, elf, but this is the first time I've been mistaken for a hundred-foot tall, fire-breathing beast."

"Are you truly so blind to the power you hold, and what is tied to it? My guards had sensed it, and now that you stand before me I see it too—you _reek_ of dark magic."

There it was again—the dark power that Elrond had mentioned. And somehow a dragon tied into all of this. Perhaps she could finally get some answers, but she would need to choose her words carefully.

"What of it?" He was likely to give away more information if she acted as if she already knew it.

Thranduil was giving her that catlike stare again. She could almost imagine a tail swishing back and forth. "Your friends may choose to leave this place," he said finally. "I offered Oakenshield a bargain, and if he accepts, he will be free to go." He gave a long pause, in which Holly wondered where he was going with this. "But _you_," he continued, "will never be allowed to leave these halls. I would wish a thousand curses upon the world before defiling it with your presence!"

His voice ended in a hiss, leaving a cavernous silence in its place. Holly stared, trying to process everything he had just said. She truly didn't understand what he meant. What _was_ this dark power that all the elves could sense? Who did he think would be able to create such magic? And what did a _dragon_ have to do with it all?

The meeting had only served to confuse her more, she decided as one of the guards led her back to her cell.

The cell door had barely closed before Thorin began asking questions. "What did Thranduil want with you? What did you tell him?"

"I didn't tell him anything," she answered flatly. She considered telling him that Thranduil had already guessed the motive for their journey, but everyone's morale was low enough as it was. She took a deep breath. "He wanted to know about the quest," she lied. "And obviously I didn't give him any details."

"Not like we'll be going anywhere anyway," Nori added gloomily.

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori asked, voicing everyone's thoughts. The revelation echoed like a stone being dropped. It was truly starting to sink in, that they would never be able to reclaim Erebor. After coming so far, all their struggles would be for nothing.

"Not stuck in here, you're not," declared a familiar voice. Bilbo stepped into view, holding a ring of keys.

His presence was like a ray of sunlight in the dim room. The dwarves cried out in joy and surprise, moroseness forgotten. Bilbo hissed for them to be quiet. "Shh! The guards are nearby!"

Holly watched him as as he went around unlocking the cells. She felt a sudden recklessness overtake her. There was no point in putting things off any longer.

When he came round to her cell and opened the door, she looked him in the eye, her words coming out in a jumble: "Bilbo, I...there's something I need to talk to you about."

He cocked his head. "Can it wait? This isn't exactly the best time."

"Oh—yeah, of course," she stammered, courage evaporating. "We can talk later."

_Talk later… as if._

She was beginning to hope Bilbo would forget that she'd brought it up. Nothing good could come from talking to him about her feelings. She needed to get this under control before she did something that she would regret.

They were able to leave the dungeons without much incident, though the optimistic aura was tinged with nervousness. They would only have one shot at this.

"This way, lads," Dwalin called, heading for a staircase that led to the upper halls of Mirkwood.

"No, not that way!" Bilbo protested, pointing to a different staircase that led downwards. "This is the way we're supposed to go."

"You're supposed to be leading us out, not further in!" Bofur hissed.

"No, this is brilliant!" Holly countered. "They'll be expecting us to try and force our way outwards, since that's the way we came in. Bilbo knows what he's doing."

"Yes, I do," Bilbo agreed, giving her a grateful smile. "Just follow me."

And they did, though somewhat begrudgingly. Nori raised an eyebrow at Holly as he passed, but she ignored him. Now was _not_ the time.

After a few minutes the Company found themselves in a wine cellar. They crept past a few snoring guards who were clearly intoxicated, their heads lolling on a wooden table. They stopped in front of a stack of barrels between two wine racks. "Everyone, climb into the barrels, quickly!" Bilbo whispered, a tinge of anxiety evident in his voice.

"Are you mad? They'll find us!" Dwalin growled. The rest of the dwarves murmured uneasily, sharing the sentiment.

"No, no, they won't, I promise you! Please, you _must_ trust me!" Bilbo said, shooting a beseeching look at Thorin.

Everyone was momentarily distracted by a commotion upstairs—their absence had been discovered. That seemed to make up Thorin's mind.

"Do as he says," the dwarf commanded, and the rest of them complied, climbing into the barrels.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Holly asked Bilbo once they were all situated.

"No, I'm not forgetting anything!" he responded irately. "I've planned this all out very carefully. Just trust me."

"I do," she responded, holding his gaze. "Of course I trust you."

He looked at her for a moment—just looked at her. Then Bofur piped up: "What do we do now?"

"Uh, right," Bilbo stammered, turning back to the dwarves. He strode over to a wooden lever near the barrels. "Hold your breath."

"What?"

The floor beneath the barrels began to tilt as he pulled the lever, and the Company tumbled down into the opening below.

Holly let out a strangled gasp as she was plunged into icy water, but her barrel righted itself soon enough, and she was able to get her bearings. They were in a river that cut through a high, narrow cavern. Clearly it was used to transport barrels down the Forest River, which led to the Long Lake and Laketown.

Moments later, Bilbo fell into the cavern as well with a yell and a splash. Nori pulled him out of the water by his coat and Bilbo grabbed the side of the barrel to keep himself afloat.

"Well done, Master Baggins," Thorin nodded to the hobbit from the front of the group. Bilbo gave a waterlogged half-wave in lieu of a reply.

"Not a word," he growled at Holly, who was smirking at him.

"Of course," she said, biting back a grin. It seemed as though they would actually be able to escape. "You can swim, right?"

"Well, uh, not reall—"

"Hold on!" Thorin yelled from the front of the group. The cavern abruptly opened up into sunlight and the barrels plummeted down a steep waterfall, throwing up a fine mist upon impact.

The current was picking up, pulling them swiftly down the river. Not being able to swim in these conditions could prove to be lethal. Holly shot a nervous glance at Bilbo, who seemed to be fine, albeit soaked.

The commotion from earlier had followed them to the entrance of the cavern. There was a cluster of shouting, followed by the resonating call of a horn. Nori cursed. There was a possibility that they would be recaptured before they could even leave Mirkwood.

Sure enough, they were rapidly approaching an outpost built on the river, where a group of elves were waiting. As they approached it, a heavy metal sluice gate closed, blocking the river.

The barrels crashed to a halt against the gate, leaving them once again at the mercy of the elves.

Thorin slammed his hands fruitlessly against the metal. It could not end like this—not when they were so close to escape.

Holly would always remember the subsequent moment as one of the most ironic events of their journey. One of the elves stopped short of the barrels for a brief moment, eyes blank as a jagged arrow materialized in the center of his back. Then all erupted into chaos as orcs flooded the riverbanks, lashing out against the elves and effectively distracting them from capturing the Company.

Unfortunately they were still completely vulnerable, trapped in the river and weaponless. An orc lunged for Holly, greasy nails aimed at her throat, and Bilbo cut it down with his sword, being the only one able to keep his weapon.

Holly was breathless, her heart pounding and hands shaking, and while it wasn't pleasant, being attacked by orcs, she realized that she'd _missed_ this. She'd missed the thrill of having to fight to stay alive.

She cringed as a figure passed over her head, but it was only Kili, who had climbed out of his barrel. She watched him sprint up the stairs of the gate, heading for the lever that controlled the sluice.

And all she could do was watch as the dark-haired dwarf reached the lever—he was so close—and freeze in pain and shock, muscles grinding to a halt as an arrow pierced the meat of his thigh.

There was an awful moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for an hour. And in the next instant, he fell to the ground, crying out in agony.

"Kili!" Fili called out in almost the same moment, as though he could feel his brother's pain.

Holly was sure Kili would have been killed soon after if elvish reinforcements hadn't arrived at that moment, driving the orcs back from the gate. With a strained groan, Kili managed to pull the lever and drag himself off the side of the platform. The shaft of the arrow snapped as he slipped back into his barrel. It sounded like a bone breaking.

On the other side of the gate was another waterfall, which tossed the barrels into increasingly tumultuous waters. More orcs were posted on the river banks, firing arrows into the chaotic river in hopes of striking one of the Company.

As far as Holly could tell, no one else was hit. It was when they hit the rapids that things started to go wrong. Mist boiled over their heads and the current swirled and tossed the barrels like leaves in a storm.

"Bilbo!" one of the dwarves cried out—Holly didn't know which one and didn't really care as she whipped around, heart pounding. Nori was reaching out for the hobbit as his grip slipped from the barrel. But the dwarf's fingers closed around empty air and Bilbo was engulfed by the current.

Holly did not think. In fact, she didn't entirely realize what she was doing until she had pushed herself out of her barrel and into the river. Cold water swelled over her body, pushing her down momentarily before she surfaced, whipping her head around frantically in search of the hobbit. He couldn't have gone far, but all she could see at the moment was white, misty spray. Holly didn't catch the orc falling at her until its body slammed into her own, forcing her back underwater. It was becoming harder to swim back to the surface—her heavy coat was weighing her down. Holly didn't give it a second thought. She needed to get to Bilbo.

Further downstream, a flash of red caught her eye, and she swam toward it with heavy limbs. Her body was beginning to become a dead weight. After what seemed like hours she managed to get a hold of Bilbo's coat. A surge of energy shot through her and she held on to him tightly, praying she would be able to keep both of them afloat.

Water splashed against her face and she choked on some of it. She struggled to adjust her grip and keep Bilbo's head above the water, but her arms could barely move. Was her vision really blurring or was it just the water in her eyes?

Someone was lifting the hobbit out of her grip—one of the dwarves, she hoped—and she relaxed and loosened her grip—which was a big mistake.

Holly didn't have any strength left to resist as the river pulled her under, closing around her body like a fist. Panic jolted through her muddled mind and she struggled to get back to the surface. She tried to breathe, but all that entered her lungs was water. Fighting against a buzzing panic, she made another attempt to surface. Just as she thought she would make it, a wave pushed more water down her throat and she sank beneath the surface again.

_I'm drowning_, Holly realized belatedly.

A painful, uncomfortable sensation was starting to envelop her chest. She tried to move her arms again but they wouldn't respond.

Thick, wooly nothingness settled over her mind. The water in her chest _hurt_—Eru, was it supposed to hurt? Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if she stopped struggling.

Holly stopped.

_How ironic that I'm going the same way my dad did._ The thought floated to the front of her mind briefly before being swept away along with everything else.

…

"Holly! Holly, can you hear me?"

She was still under water. It was pressing against her lungs, running across her skin, keeping her trapped at the bottom of the river. She couldn't move.

A small noise came unbidden from her throat as a heavy, staccato pressure was applied to her abdomen. She could feel water rushing up her throat and turned her head to the side so she could cough it up.

No, she wasn't under water. Blinking away droplets, she could vaguely see the sun overhead, partially obscured by a figure leaning over her.

"Holly, are you all right? Please say something."

_Bilbo._ She recognized his voice. She coughed up more water, finally clearing her airways enough for her to breathe. She sucked in lungfuls of air, sitting up on shaky elbows.

Gentle fingers brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. Bilbo gave a relieved, trembling laugh. "You had me worried for a moment."

The same impulsiveness that had possessed her in Mirkwood reappeared. Holly

grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and pulled him into a kiss.

Too soon, she had to break away so she could cough more water out of her lungs. When she turned back, Bilbo's cheeks were flushed, but he was frowning.

"Bilbo?" she said softly, her voice hoarse.

"I...no. I'm sorry, I just—no. I can't." He didn't even meet her eyes.

Holly could only watch numbly as he stood up and walked away.

The nagging voice in the back of her head chuckled.

_I told you so._

**Combined Chapters 1 and 2, so thats why the numbers are screwy**

**And, um uh, the weather, huh? Yeah...and an absence of poorly written elf characters! Among other things! *hides behind a rohirrim shield* pls don't hurt me**


	16. The Resident Bargeman

**Chapter 16**

The Forest River had carried them all the way out of Mirkwood, but now slowed to a crawl near a rocky bank. The water was no longer turbulent and foamy, but calm and level. After weeks of dim light, the sun seemed especially bright. The fall air was crisp, but not bitingly cold.

All of this seemed rather antagonistic to Holly, a mocking contrast to the hurricane of emotions inside her.

It was her own fault, of course. It was her fault that she'd opened up her feelings and made herself vulnerable.

It was her fault that Bilbo would never want anything more than friendship.

And from the looks of it, she'd lost that as well.

"Oh, lass...I'm sorry," Nori said from beside her. She started. Had he seen the whole thing?

"There's nothing to be sorry about," she said shortly. She didn't trust herself to say any more than that.

"Well, I was the one that suggested you talk to him in the first place...I just didn't realize that you would—"

"_Stop_," she forced out, her voice hoarse. "I just can't talk about it now, okay?"

"Right. Sorry." Nori placed a comforting hand on her back.

Holly was about to tell him to stop apologizing, but the harsh _thwak_ of an arrow piercing wood caught her attention.

Dwalin stumbled back, a large stick in hand. An arrow had been driven clean through the wood. The dwarf glared at an imposing figure standing higher up on the bank. The sun was shining at an angle that threw shadow over whoever it was, but the nocked bow in his hands was clearly visible.

"Do it again, and you're dead," the figure said.

Holly stood, recognizing the voice. "Bard, is that you?"

The man did a double take, eyes widening. "Holly?" He lowered his bow slightly. "What are you...We all thought you were dead."

"Well, sorry to get your hopes up." She didn't even have the energy to glare at him.

Thorin stepped forward. "Holly, you know him?"

"Yes, I know him. We grew up in the same town."

"So you must be from Laketown," Balin piped up with a cautious smile at Bard. "That barge over there, would it be available for hire, by any chance?"

The man scrutinized the dwarves. Finally, he said. "Help me move the barrels into the barge. Then we can talk."

As some of the dwarves began to heave the barrels out of the water and up the bank, Thorin and Balin approached Holly.

"You're familiar with this man, correct? Can he be trusted?" Thorin asked in a low voice.

"He values his morals and his people above everything else. Make sure not to infringe on that, and he'll keep his word," she informed them. Bard had always been the humanitarian of Laketown, going out of his way to help the less privileged residents in any way he could in a "steal from the rich, give to the poor" sort of manner. "And if you're going to strike a deal with him, it wouldn't hurt to mention money." Everyone in Laketown except a select few would at least listen to any deal involving money.

The two dwarves nodded and Thorin walked away to help with moving the barrels. Holly began to follow him but Balin touched her arm, making her pause.

"You sure you're all right, lass?"

She hoped he was talking about the fact that she had almost drowned, and not...the other thing. "I'm…" It was hard to speak around the lump in her throat. "My lungs are perfectly functional. I'm fine."

She didn't feel fine, though. She felt...raw.

Holly tried her best not to think about this as she watched the dwarves push the barrels up the slope and into the barge (she wasn't strong enough to help). Moping wouldn't help anyone.

Bard hauled the last barrel onto the boat and turned to the dwarves. "What makes you think I will help you?"

"Those boots have seen better days," Balin pointed out. "As has that coat. No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed. How many bairns?"

"A boy and two girls," Bard answered shortly.

"And your wife, I'd imagine she's a beauty."

"Aye," the man replied in a softer tone. "She was."

The dwarf faltered for a moment. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Oh, enough with the niceties!" Dwalin growled. Holly couldn't agree more. They were here to seek help from Bard, not have tea with him.

"What's your hurry?" Bard scrutinized the burly dwarf.

"What's it to you?" he shot back.

Holly sighed. _Perfectly clever. Make us look even more suspicious._

"I would like to know who you are and what you are doing in these lands," Bard said, stepping forward.

"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills," Balin answered guilelessly.

"Simple merchants, you say?" Bard raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering to Holly.

"Obviously I couldn't traverse the wilds by myself. They offered me protection, and I accepted," she supplied flatly.

"We need food, supplies, weapons. Can you help us?" Thorin cut in, finally getting to the point.

Bard did not reply immediately, his gaze drifting to the nicks and scrapes the barrels had sustained from the orcs' arrows. "I know where these barrels came from," he said slowly. "I don't know what business you had with the elves, but I don't think it ended well. No one enters Laketown but by leave of the Master—he would see you in irons before risking the wrath of—"

"Yes, I'm sure we get the point by now," Holly snapped, stepping forward. "I know we won't legally be able to get into Laketown, and I know that you would be able to smuggle us in there. We'll pay you double for getting us in and for the simple courtesy of _shutting up_."

A long silence stretched across the bank. Bard merely raised his eyebrows. "If what she says is true, I can smuggle you in."

The rest of the Company exchanged glances. The bargeman didn't seem to be offended at all by Holly's outburst. Though perhaps it wasn't as much of a surprise to him.

After all, it would appear to him as though nothing had changed.

….

The temperature dropped sharply once the barge moved onto the lake, and a thick fog hung in the air, causing the chill to cling to their skin. Vague shadows moved just out of sight, flitting over the water before disappearing into the gloom.

Balin glanced over at Bard, who was gripping the tiller of the barge, eyes fixed on the gloom ahead. "So...you knew Holly when she was younger?"

"I did. And yes, she's always been like that. She used to have this trick where she could look at someone and tell them their whole life story. Everyone hated her for it." His tone was colored with faint amusement that seemed to be part resentment as well. "I'm sure it can't have been easy to have to travel with her."

Balin glanced over at the young woman. She was standing on the other side of the barge, head down. "I wouldn't be so quick to judgement. She's been through a lot."

Holly dug her fingernails into the wood of the barge as she stared into the slate-colored water, oblivious to the conversation on the other side of the barge. It hadn't crossed her mind that they would have to pass through Laketown to get to the Lonely Mountain. And that was the last place she wanted to go—she hated the place, and everyone in it.

Her old self would have been able to march through with her head held high. But everything had become so..._overwhelming_. Being part of the Company had begun to tear down the barriers she had erected to keep from feeling things. And at first it had been nice, feeling, but now it was the last thing she wanted to do. She hated feeling this way, feeling so helpless about her own emotions.

At least she knew how to fix the problem. All she had to do was reverse what caused it. Sentiment, attachment—that was where her weakness laid.

"I have been bled dry by this adventure!" Gloin was saying from across the barge. "And what have I seen for my investment? Naught but misery and grief and..." He trailed off abruptly.

The fog had parted, and the dwarves stood, staring at the looming figure in the distance.

Thorin felt something rise in his chest. The Lonely Mountain towered above them, snow-capped peaks tinged pink and gold against the sunlight. They had reached their goal, after months of travel—they were so _close_.

Hope—that was the name of what he was feeling. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but Thorin knew that he and his friends would become familiar with it once they had reclaimed Erebor—he would see to it.

Holly looked away, disinterested. She'd seen that mountain every day while living in Laketown. It was nothing new to her.

"Bless my beard," Gloin murmured. "Take it. Take all of it." He heaped several coins into the stack they had collected.

The moment was broken as Bard strode forward, palm outstretched. "The money, give it to me, quick."

"We will pay you when we get our provisions, and not before," Thorin stated with a warning look.

"If you value your freedom, you'll do as I say. There are guards up ahead," Bard insisted.

Sure enough, the vague silhouette of buildings and the sound of voices began to filter through the fog.

"Just give him the damned money," Holly barked at Thorin, ignoring the glare he gave her in return. She was focused on the intensifying twisting feeling in her gut. The sooner they got this over with, the better.

Bard pocketed the money with practiced hands. "Get in the barrels." The dwarves immediately broke out in protest. They'd spent enough time in the barrels already. "Do it! How else do you expect to get into Laketown without being seen?"

Grudgingly, they crammed themselves back into the wooden containers and fell silent. Holly shook her head when Bard gestured for her to do so as well.

"Absolutely not. I'm a citizen of the town—I'm not going to sneak in." Especially not in such an undignified manner.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He tied the barge to the entrance dock and stepped on, heading for one of the fishermen who had tied his boat to the opposite side.

Bard handed a stack of coins to the man. "I'll take the fish." He added a few more coins. "You didn't see me here." Some of the fishermen of the town distributed their catches separately of the master, which was illegal, but much cheaper. It was the only reliable way he would be able to smuggle the dwarves in, and a method that he had used before.

Moments later, wet smacking noises filled the air as the barrels were filled with dead fish, much to the dismay of the dwarves. Holly felt doubly relieved that she'd refused to get into a barrel.

"...I never want to see a fish again," Bombur grumbled as the barge began moving again.

Bard kicked the dwarf's barrel. "Quiet! We're approaching the gate."

They came to a halt as a ginger man stood up from his desk. "Halt! Goods inspection. Papers, please." Bard handed him a slip of paper. "Oh, it's you, Bard."

"Hello, Percy."

"And who's this?" Percy glanced over at Holly.

"You remember Holly Curuwen, right?" Bard patted her on the shoulder in a faux-friendly sort of way that made her scowl. "Her father was the, uh…"

"Oh." Percy's eyebrows drew together in a manner that suggested he did remember her. "Well…" He went back to his desk and stamped the papers. "It appears everything is in order. You're free to go—"

"Not. So. Fast." A slimy man sauntered forward and snatched the papers out of Percy's hand. "Consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland Realm," he read. "Only, they're not empty, are they, Bard?" He tossed the papers away and stepped forward, flanked by a couple of guards. "If I read correctly, you're licensed as a bargeman, not a fisherman."

"That's none of your business," Bard replied, mouth set in a straight line.

"Wrong." the man smirked. "It's the Master's business, which makes it my business."

"Oh, come on, Alfrid, have a heart. People need to eat," Bard said, a pleading note entering his voice.

"And these fish are illegal," Alfrid continued as if he hadn't heard him. He gestured to the guards. "Empty the barrels over the side." He turned to Holly, raising his unibrow. "You're bringing in women in too, now?"

Holly wasn't angry. She only felt an icy, vindictive sneer creep onto her face as she said, "Oh, is that illegal too, now? Perhaps you should consult the Master about it. You're obviously quite _close_ to him, going by the state of your knees." She brushed past him roughly, the ice in her veins hardening.

This was who she was. How could she have ever believed that someone could change that?

**it's midnight and im tired**

**but yaas bard has been introduced! A+ character ****hooray!**

**and if you're thinking that holly has no chill, you're probably right, but there is literal picture evidence of what she deduces at the end of this chapter. look it up on tumblr- "master of laketown and alfrid" will provide all the evidence you need .**

**i promise next chapter will be 2x happier, even though 2x0 is still 0 *sleep deprived laughter* **

**leave a comment telling me what you think, it helps me out a lot! and thanks to the two lovely anon reviews i got for last chapter! have a nice**


	17. A Retrospection

**Chapter 17**

"_Try to learn to let what is unfair teach you." —David Foster Wallace; __Infinite Jest_

As soon as she opened the door, a thick mixture of dust and disease filtered into the cold air, making Holly grimace. She opened it further, letting sunlight filter through the kitchen of her old home.

It was empty, and silent as death.

Holly stepped inside, the door swinging shut of its own accord. The house had been built on top of a bakery and the floor was on a slight angle, making everything tilt slightly. When Holly was little she used to set a bucket on its side and watch it roll across the room.

Her mother's coat and hat were hanging limp on one of the pegs next to the door. They were the only ones there. _Perhaps…_

Holly walked over to her parents' bedroom, dust scurrying from her footsteps. When she reached the door, she paused, hand inches away from the doorknob. She swallowed hard, listening. She could hear faint breathing on the other side.

But when Holly pushed it open, the room was dark and cold. And empty. A cavernous silence suffused throughout the house and made her ears ring. She shut the door, turning away from the cloying odor of sickness. It was clear what had happened here. She didn't want to think about it. Holly leaned her pounding head against the wood, breathing in the stale air.

Everyone was gone.

The front door creaked. She spun around in time to see it slam shut. Heart pounding, she rushed across the room and wrenched open the door. The threshold was empty, and so were the stairs. There was no one there. Holly felt a frown tug at the corners of her mouth. She hadn't even noticed the door open.

She let out a shaky sigh. A prickling sensation started at the base of her neck, and she wondered if she was being watched.

…..

Thorin could smell smoke. Screams of pain flooded the air, the sound wretched, but the worst of it was the black silence that followed—the screaming snapped up by fire and death. A deafening roar sounded, burnt-red scales glinting as the dragon lunged—

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

The sound of Bilbo's voice drew him forcibly out of the memory. Thorin blinked as the present reasserted itself. He was in Bard's house in Laketown, not back in Erebor watching his people die. But his eyes remained fixed on the roof of one of the Laketown buildings, where a four-pronged ballista stood, angled at the sky just as it had been on the day of the attack.

"He has seen a ghost," Balin said grimly, stepping beside him. "The last time we saw such a weapon…" He paused to collect himself. "...a city was on fire. It was the day the dragon came—the day that Smaug destroyed Dale. Girion, the Lord of the city, rallied his bowmen to fire upon the beast. But a dragon's hide is tough, tougher than the strongest armor. Only a black arrow, fired from a windlance, could have pierced the dragon's hide, and few of those were ever made. His store was running low when Girion made his last stand."

Thorin stared hard at the windlance until its shape blurred in his vision. Girion had warned his grandfather against the dangers of Erebor's wealth, and the risks of evoking a dragon's wrath. But Thror, blinded by greed and hounded by paranoia from the gold-sickness, had refused to take any sort of precaution. Girion's windlance had been their only hope at stopping the dragon.

"Had the aim of men been true that day, much would have been different," he said quietly. _Everything_ would have been different.

The floorboards creaked as Bard approached their small group. "You speak as if you were there."

"All dwarves know the tale," Thorin replied shortly, feeling guarded now that the man had intruded on their conversation.

"Then you would know that Girion hit the dragon," Bain, Bard's son, spoke up. "He loosened a scale under the left wing. One more shot and he would have killed the beast."

Dwalin let out a dry laugh. "That's a fairy story, lad. Nothing more."

Of course it was. There was no use indulging in hopeful fantasies. Thorin fixed Bard with a businesslike stare and changed the subject. "You took our money. Where are the weapons?"

"Wait here," was all Bard said before he turned on his heel and walked out, supposedly to retrieve their supplies.

Thorin beckoned to Fili and Kili once the man was gone. He didn't need him intruding on any more of their conversations. "Tomorrow begins the last days of autumn."

"Durin's Day falls the morn after next," Balin added. "We must reach the mountain before then."

"And if we do not?" Kili turned to his uncle, eyes full of doubt. "If we fail to find the hidden door before that time?"

_If we fail…_ Failure meant losing everything.

"Then this quest has been for nothing," Fili answered grimly, glancing at his uncle.

For the Company, all their months of traveling and fighting and _hoping_ would be for nothing. And for Thorin, the years he had spent searching for this opportunity, the battle of Azanulbizar, his grandfather and his brother's death—they would all mean nothing.

And Thorin would not allow that to happen.

Bard walked back into the room and deposited a long, dripping package on the table. There was a long stretch of silence as the dwarves stared at its contents.

"Is this a joke?" Bofur finally said.

Thorin agreed with the sentiment as he picked up a strange hooked object. "What is this?"

"A pike-hook, made from an old harpoon," Bard answered, eyebrows drawing together as the dwarves let out grumbles of discontent.

"And this?" Kili hefted a grimy, hammer-like item.

"A crowbill, we call it, fashioned from an old smithy's hammer," Bard explained, sounding almost defensive. "It's heavy in hand, I grant, but in defense of your life, these will serve you better than none."

"We paid you for _weapons_," Gloin growled. "Iron-forged swords and axes!"

"Might as well give us fishing rods as well," Bombur added.

Bard scowled. "You won't find better outside the city armory. All iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key." Dwalin and Thorin exchanged a glance. Now there was another option.

"Thorin," Balin spoke up, evidently sensing the plan growing in his mind. "Why not take what's been offered and go? I've made do with less, and so have you. I say we leave now."

That was an equally viable option. The one thing they could not afford to lose was time, and breaking into the armory would deprive them of that resource.

"You're not going anywhere," Bard broke in, making Dwalin turn with a snarl.

"_What did you say_?"

"There are spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in the town. You must wait till nightfall."

The dwarf relaxed slightly at this, as did the others. It appeared their only option was to wait until sunset, which would arrive shortly. Unfortunately, that would leave them with inadequate weapons and less time. As the dwarves began to disperse around the house, Bard gave Thorin an indiscernible look before striding out.

Minutes later, the door banged open and Holly walked in. "What did I miss?" Her tone was casual, but Thorin noted the stiffness in her shoulders and the way she glanced outside for a long moment as she closed the door.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"I was looking around." She fixed him with a slightly inimical stare. "I assume I haven't missed anything, then."

A thought struck him, and he stood up. "Would you happen to know where the armory is?"

"Of course I know where the armory is." Sharp eyes flitted over the rejected pile of weapons on the table. "And I'm assuming you need to make a visit."

Bain started forward at this. "You can't leave yet."

Holly barely glanced at him. "Yes, thank you for your input." She turned back to Thorin. "I can help you get in, but it's going to take a while to get there without being seen."

He stood up. "Can we leave now?"

"Unless you have something better to do," she replied and, with one last sharp-edged glance, headed for the door.

….

The armory was situated in the center of Laketown, two blocks down from the Town Hall. Holly found her way easily—her father had been there often, being a guard, and even after many years she probably still could have found the place in her sleep.

Fortunately, the streets were empty, making it easier to pass through unnoticed. Laketown was at its least lively at night.

Holly started at a small rat that scurried across the walkway, and quickly composed herself. She still felt like she was being watched.

"How do we get in?" Ori asked once they reached the armory. The weapons were stored on the second floor of the small two-story building, and guards often loitered on the first floor.

She peered into the back window. The room was dark and silent. "The latch is broken. We should be able to get in here."

"What if the latch has been fixed?"

Holly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "It wasn't _that_ broken." She'd spent enough time in the building to know that it was broken and everyone just left it alone. Nothing in Laketown got fixed unless you couldn't use it anymore, and no one really opened their windows anyway. She used her fingertips to pry it open, and the latch gave way with a rusty _click_. "There we are. Stairs are on the left."

Thorin nodded at her, then turned to the others. "We need a group to stay outside and keep watch. The rest of you, come with me." He climbed through the window.

Nori, Bofur, Bilbo, Fili, and Kili followed him in. Kili was halfway through when he slipped, his knee banging hard against the frame of the window. The dwarf hissed in pain, nearly losing his balance. Holly reached out to help steady him, concern warring with the indifference she'd tried to center herself around. "Are you all right?"

"M'fine," he grunted as Fili helped his brother into the armory.

Holly stepped back, frowning. She'd forgotten about the wound in his leg. She hoped it hadn't been infected.

Down the street, a door slammed, making her jump. Her eyes darted around the empty alley. She couldn't shake the uneasiness that had been dogging her ever since she visited her old house.

Dori touched her arm. "Why are you acting so high-strung? Is something wrong?"

She crossed her arms. "This town is a cesspool of poverty and corruption. I've every reason to be _high-strung_. Let's just hope we can get out of here without any incidents."

As if on cue, a loud crash sounded from within the building. Holly sighed as alarmed shouts and footsteps sounded a few blocks away. "Well, I don't know what I expected."

"Run!"

A group of guards cornered them before they could reach the end of the alley. Holly was distinctly reminded of their capture in Mirkwood as they were rounded up and escorted them to the center of town, where the Town Hall was.

People started to trickle onto the street, woken by the commotion. That was one of the many things Holly despised about Laketown—nearly everyone was too nosy for their own good, and those who weren't were just as informed through the town's advanced gossip network. By the time they reached the Town Hall, a large crowd had gathered there, gawking and whispering.

"What is the meaning of this?" A balding, rotund man stepped out of the Town Hall as the Company was shoved forward into the square, the guards forming a barrier behind them.

"We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire," one of the guards, presumably the head, replied.

_Sire…_ Holly frowned. Regis Blackwood had been the master of Laketown since she had been very young, and apparently no one had successfully taken action against him yet. He was quite the demagogue, and charismatic at that, but anyone with use of their eyes could see the web of corruption he'd woven throughout the town.

Regis puffed out his chest. "Ah. Enemies of the state, then."

Alfrid slunk out onto the porch of the Town Hall as well, looking distinctly weasel-like. "These are mercenaries if I've seen 'em, sire."

_Yes, because mercenaries steal weapons instead of bringing their own. Idiots._ Holly scowled. This was going to be a massive waste of time.

"Hold your tongue," Dwalin growled, stepping forward. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal; this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!" He gestured to the aforementioned dwarf, who moved forward as well, holding himself with what could only be described as a kingly posture.

The master raised his eyebrows as Thorin spoke, his low voice carrying across the crowd.

"We are the dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland." He walked into the center of the square, regarding the ramshackle buildings, the graying wood. "I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North!" The crowd added their agreement in loud voices, even though none of them had actually been alive to witness such prosperity.

"I would see those days return," Thorin continued. "I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!" The people let out another cheer at this.

Holly was impressed with the ease in which Thorin had turned the crowd in his favor. Perhaps they would be able to leave without further harassment.

The square fell silent as a clear voice rang out: "Death! That is what you will bring upon us." Bard pushed his way through the crowd and glared at Thorin. "Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all." Now the people were fixated on him, anxious whispers permeating the silence.

_Well, isn't this just one big orgy of charisma._ Holly crossed her arms, interested as to who would win this debate. Bard had the people's favor through friendship and familiarity, but Thorin had obviously taken note to what she had said about money—there were few other things that could win a Laketowner's support so easily.

Thorin continued his speech, unfazed. "You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this: if we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to build Esgaroth ten times over!" he finished in a shout amidst applause and cheers from his audience.

"All of you! Listen to me! You must listen!" The noise died down once more. Holly sighed. She had seen fleas with more commitment than these people. "Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?" A few people cried in the negative. "And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain king so driven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!"

Thorin's eyes flashed, but before he could respond, the master spoke up, pointing a thick finger at Bard. He was clearly enjoying himself. "Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget that it was Lord Girion, _your_ ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!"

"It's true, sire," Alfrid spoke up in an oily voice. "We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark."

_Because it is _so _easy to kill a dragon. _That was a weak argument, but Bard had already lost the battle, and he knew it.

The man turned to Thorin, anger carved into his features. "You have no right." He shook his head. "_No right_ to enter that mountain."

The dwarf leveled him with a cool stare. "I have the only right." He turned his back and addressed the master. "Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?"

Regis pretended to think for a moment, greed glinting in his eyes.

"What say you?"

"I say unto you...welcome! Welcome, and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!" The crowd cheered again. Bard shot one last glare at Thorin before vanishing in the masses. The master beckoned for them to enter the Town Hall. "Do come in, so that we may discuss the terms of this agreement." Clearly he wanted to have something down on paper to ensure that he would get his share of the gold.

Holly was halfway up the steps when Alfrid caught sight of her and sent her an acidic glare. "What's _she_ doing here?"

Dwalin, of all people, stepped forward and gave the man a challenging stare of his own. "She's with us. If you have a problem, keep it to yourself."

Holly wanted to follow up with a barbed comment, but her voice caught in her throat. She glanced at Dwalin, then at the rest of the dwarves. They were supporting her as always, but it made her feel worse. Being in Laketown again had brought back too many reminders as to why she would be better off _without_ friends. She was tired of getting hurt by people. But the dwarves didn't know that, and she wasn't sure if she wanted them to.

Inside, they were offered drinks, and the master, Alfrid, Balin, and Thorin went off to one side to discuss the details of the transaction.

Holly leaned against the windowsill, gazing out at the darkened houses. The torchlight made shadows flicker as though someone was moving just out of sight. She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. No one was out to get her.

"You going to just stand there all night?"

Holly looked up. Bofur was staring at her expectantly, as were the others. They were all seated around a table, drinks in hand.

"...What?"

He waved her over. "Come join us!"

"I don't drink," she said automatically. She'd always considered the use of alcohol as lowering yourself one step closer to the mentality of a farm animal.

"Then come and talk with us."  
They were all trying so hard to make her feel welcomed, included. And she was being so typically obstinate and unsociable. She didn't deserve their friendship.

"I…" She felt like her lungs were full of stones. If she had a moment to think… "I need a few minutes." Without waiting for a response, she pushed open the front doors and stepped into the cold night air.

_Right...thinking. Is that all you can do?_

At some point during the night it had begun to snow. The little flakes melted on the surface of the lake. The water was black against the night sky, the reflections of the torches creating undulating patches of gold.

Holly leaned her elbows on the porch railing, staring at the surface of the water until her vision blurred. For a split second, there was a familiar pair of blank, deadened eyes in the water, but when she blinked, they were gone.

The tears came unbidden and unwanted. They bubbled up thick and fast, and she was helpless to stop them.

Holly brought the sleeve of her coat to her mouth, trying to make as little noise as possible. Her first instinct was to reach out for the control usually within her grasp, to clamp the familiar steel trap around her emotions, but even that had abandoned her.

She couldn't understand why she was crying. There was no way to rationalize the maelstrom of grief she was experiencing.

And by the Valar, it _hurt_.

She turned instinctively upon hearing the door open. Nori stood in the doorway, eyes widening slightly as he took in her tear-stained face and equally widened eyes.

Hot shame washed over her. She didn't want him to witness her crying. That would mean losing his respect, and she couldn't deal with that, along with everything else. Holly turned away, ready to let him walk back inside when he spoke.

"Holly, what's the matter?"

No, of course she wouldn't lose his respect. Eru, what was wrong with her, that she couldn't trust her own friends?

Holly clenched her jaw and stared hard at the surface of the lake, willing her composure to return. "...Nothing. It's nothing."

"This is about Bilbo, isn't it?" Nori persisted, going to stand next to her.

"It's none of your concern, is what it is," she spat. She didn't want to deal with this at the moment.

"Actually, it is 'of my concern'," he retorted, crossing his arms. When she didn't respond, he continued in a slightly angrier tone. "When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I care about you, we all do—"

"_I know!_ By the Valar, I _know_," Holly's voice broke off from a shout. She continued in a lower voice. "But _why_ would you care about me, the most irritating, arrogant, rude—"She winced, wiping her face with her sleeve. "None of this was ever supposed to happen."

Nori frowned, confused by her outburst. "What are you talking about?"

"I wasn't… I didn't want to end up caring about any of you...It's always been better to divorce myself from my feelings, keep myself distant. This…" She gestured to herself. "Is not about what happened at the river. This is about the fact that I _cannot care about others_." She was, in fact, standing in the center of the place where she'd spent years not caring, and came out just fine. For the most part. "That's not something I can just change."

Holly tried to get a better grip on her emotions as a long silence stretched over them, even though she'd really gone past the point of no return with expressing her feelings. Another wave of shame coursed through her body.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Nori said finally.

Her head snapped up. "Wha—I _do_!" Holly had been expecting sympathy, perhaps even mere silence. Not the strange mixture of irritation and amusement his tone revealed.

"No, you don't. Mahal, Holly, I thought you were smarter than this. You think you won't get hurt if you close yourself off from everyone? Not only is that one of the most overused excuses I've heard of, it's not working. Are you happy now? Is this what you want?"

Holly squeezed her eyes shut as more tears worked their way down her face. Every instinct in her body was telling her to shut down, to push him away. She felt safer that way. But was that what she needed? "I don't know. I don't know."

Nori's voice softened as he put his hands on her shoulders. "The point I'm trying to make is you're going to make mistakes with people sometimes. And it'll hurt. But that doesn't mean you give up. We still have your back. All of us."

Holly nodded, dragging her sleeve across her face. "Okay." She didn't really know what else to say.

She let him pull her into a hug, relaxing into his touch. She was still incredibly confused and unsure whether or not to take his advice, but she would worry about that later.

"You still smell like fish," Holly mumbled, and laughed softly when the dwarf gently smacked the back of her head.

There was a groaning sound as the door opened. Bilbo stepped halfway outside, eyes flickering between the two of them. "S-Sorry, is this a bad time? I was just coming to…"  
Nori broke the embrace and glanced at Holly, then back at the hobbit. "Of course this isn't a bad time. I'll leave you two alone." Holly watched him walk back inside, anxiety coiling in her stomach.

"I should probably head inside too," she mumbled to the ground, trying to step around Bilbo.

"Wait." He touched her arm lightly, making her freeze. "I came out here because….well, I wanted to talk to you."

"There's not much for us to talk about, is there?" she replied, eyes still fixated downwards.

Bilbo gave an irritated huff. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to actually deal with your problems for once."

She looked up at him then, narrowing her eyes at the accusation. "I don't think there's anything to be _dealt with_, but if you believe you have something worthwhile to say, then go on. I'll try not to die in the process."

He opened his mouth to snap at her, then sighed. "I don't want to fight with you, Holly. Don't make me fight with you."

Holly pressed her lips together. She didn't want to fight with him either. She wanted to fix things between them. Which meant talking about a subject she'd been avoiding all day. She'd been meaning to do something about it later, but...when exactly _was_ later? Perhaps she could dismiss the issue without having to talk about her personal feelings. "Look, I'm sorry about...kissing you..." she forced out. "I just...I was worried you might have drowned, and I was relieved that you hadn't." Then she remembered that Bilbo had probably thought the same about her and he hadn't reacted that way. "And I was delirious from lack of oxygen," she added.

"Oh. That-That's why you did that?"

She nodded. "Bilbo, I...don't want things to change between us." Unless they changed for the better, but that road was obviously inaccessible. "I still want to...to be friends. I don't know. Whatever you want. It's fine if you don't have any feelings for me, because..." _I care about you so much and losing you would hurt me in ways I don't understand._ How was she supposed to say that?

"Except...well, I do."

"Good, because, well, something...well, a lot of things happened in Mirkwood that made me act not like myself, though I'm not quite sure what 'myself' even means anymore, seeing as I've had a few personal changes along this journey. And furthermore I've come to realize that…" Holly's train of thought slammed to a halt as she processed what he had just said. "I—you—what?"

"I do," he said quietly (was he _blushing_?), "have feelings for you."

She must have heard incorrectly. "So in fact...you mean…"

"Yeah."

"I'm—we're—that is to say…"

"Yeah."

Holly blinked. "_Oh_. Well." Was she dreaming? She must be dreaming. That was why everything felt slightly...surreal. "Well. Where does that leave us?"

"If I'm honest, I'm not sure where we stand right now. But..." Bilbo took her hand in his, making her heart race. "I want to figure this out. With you."

"What did you mean, then, when you said that you couldn't do this? Back at the river?" The way his thumb was tracing small circles on the back of her hand was making it very hard to think.

"I was...confused," he admitted. "And surprised. I didn't think that you could have ever felt things that way."

Holly's initial shock was starting to wear off. It was a valid point. She had felt the same way about herself—she had always considered romance a waste of time as well as a disadvantage. But then Bilbo Baggins had fallen into her life and changed that entirely.

"And I wasn't..._planning_ on forming any sort of relationship in my life," Bilbo continued. "'Bachelor Bilbo Baggins'—that's what everyone used to call me, back home, and I was planning on keeping it that way." He paused and sighed. "And we're not even of the same race."

That was a big obstacle. Interracial relationships were not entirely looked down upon, but were discouraged and rare, and primarily occurred between men and elves. "Big Folk" hardly ever took to courting the "Little Folk" of Middle Earth.

"But...you still want to make this work?" Holly asked tentatively.

"Yes. And this is all incredibly confusing and I don't know if things will work out, but I think we should try. All right?"

She nodded. That was _better_ than all right. She smiled at Bilbo as a warm euphoria spread through her chest. He smiled back at her, eyes full of tenderness. How had she never noticed that before? Apparently she had been blind to a lot of things. But she had a chance now, to make things right. "So, um...how are we exactly going to go about this?"

"I think we should take things slowly for now. But don't do anything you're not comfortable with," he said.

"Right. So...we're good, then?"

"Yeah, we're good." He glanced back at the Town Hall, where the sound of raised voices suggested some of the dwarves were getting quite drunk. "We should probably go back inside now. Getting cold out here."

"You go ahead. I just...need a moment. To think." And possibly discern whether or not she was hallucinating.

"Okay." He squeezed her hand. "Don't stay out too long."

Once he had gone back inside, Holly leaned against the railing of the porch, smiling to herself. The cool air felt nice on her heated cheeks.

A movement in the peripheral of her vision caught her eye. A man was standing on the other side of the square...waving at her. She checked behind her—no, the man was definitely waving at her. Holly sighed. The gesture meant nothing—it was usually in the most isolated hours of the night when Laketown's less mentally stable residents ventured onto the streets.

Nonetheless, a chill ran up her spine. She needed to get back inside.

But curiosity rooted her to the spot as the man limped over to her side of the square—a _thump, tak, thump, tak_ echoing across the square—one of his legs was partially gone, a wooden peg in its place. He watched her closely with glinting dark eyes.

Holly began to turn to walk back inside when he spoke.

"I need to talk to you."

Her veins flooded with ice. His _voice_. She had never seen him before, but the sound of his voice made her hands tremble.

This strange man was the owner of the voice in her nightmares.

**Here's a cliffhanger, Merry Christmas. And Holly and Bilbo finally made up! Merry Christmas for those of you that wanted that. **

**I really enjoyed writing the short Thorin POV in this chapter. He is honestly one of my favorite fictional characters and I would lie down in front of a train to protect Thorin, so it was good.**

**Feel free to leave a comment telling me what you think, it helps me out a lot!**


	18. The Crooked Man

**Chapter 18**

"_You cannot conquer Time._

_In the burrow of the NIghtmare…_

_Time watches from the shadow_

_And coughs when you would kiss."_

—_W. H. Auden; __As I Walked Out One Evening_

Holly wasn't dreaming. If anything, she was having another nightmare.

She curled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "W-What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you." The man gave her a casual once-over, his relaxed stance a stark contrast to the predatory glint in his eyes. "You're shorter than I thought you would be. Must be a side effect."

_Side effect… _She had no idea what that meant, nor did she want him to clarify. The man who had tortured her incessantly in her nightmares was here, in Laketown, and she had no doubt that he intended to do her harm—though this time he could leave real scars. Holly glanced at the door. If she ran, she could probably make it inside before he could reach her.

"We could do it that way," he said, following her gaze. "You walk back inside, spend some time with your friends, and forget all about this for a few hours. We could do that. Or you could save me a lot of trouble and talk with me right now."

She glared. "And why on earth would I do that?"

"Because no matter what you do, you are going to suffer, and then you are going to die." His demeanor was so casual, it almost seemed as if he weren't planning her demise. "And your friends are going to die." Holly's fingers twitched at this. If he tried to hurt any of her friends, she would kill him first. "And before you die, I want you to know why this is happening to you. So you can know how helpless you are." The man watched her hungrily for a reaction, so she did her best not to give him that satisfaction. She wished she would stop shaking. "So, are you going to follow me, or am I going to have to visit you later?"

Holly knew what that meant. At least he couldn't really harm her in her nightmares. She would take that over actually being killed. "There is nothing you could say to me that would make me follow you anywhere," she hissed.

"Not even that I know why your father killed himself?"

The back of her neck went cold at that. "You…"

He raised an eyebrow. "I was asking a 'yes' or 'no' kind of question."

Years of hate, fear, and pain boiled hot in her chest. After only a few minutes of conversation she was close to breaking down. And he was _mocking_ her. "Who _are_ you?"

"I'm the man from your nightmares, though I'm sure you've figured that out already. Damon, if you want a name. That's all you need to know about me for now."

Holly took a deep breath. This man had the answers to questions that had been hounding her for a long time. And it seemed logical that the business with the dark power and the dragon would tie into this. If she was going to put her past to rest, she would need to face her fears. "I assume we're going somewhere more private to talk."

"I think you're familiar with the place." Damon turned and began walking, his wooden leg thumping on the ground with every other step. Holly followed at a lengthy distance, ready to turn around and run if she had to. No doubt the false appendage would slow him down—at least she had that on her side. She wondered how that had happened to him. Then she decided she didn't care.

When Damon stopped walking, she observed their surroundings and froze, dread pooling in her stomach. For how many years had she avoided this place like the plague?

"This seemed like an appropriate place to talk."

They were at the dock at the edge of the town. The place where her father had died. It was all part of his strategy, Holly realized, to unsettle and unhinge her. His motive for doing so, however, were unclear.

Regardless, it was vital that she keep her composure.

"Do explain, then, why this location is _appropriate_."

"You seem to want to get to the point," Damon noted. "I'll be blunt, then—your father killed himself because of me."

Holly fought to keep her expression impassive. "Why?"

Instead of answering her question, he gave her another casual glance. "You know, I really expected you to be taller."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she bit out.

"What indeed." He began pacing back and forth across the dock. Holly instinctively took a step backwards. "Your father made a choice. I was the consequence. He killed someone important to me." His tone became bitter. "So I responded in kind."

Holly remembered that day. Her father had come home late at night, covered in blood, and told her that he had done his best to protect the town. She'd only realized later what he had meant, what he had done. "He was doing his job. Whatever caused him to kill that person, it wasn't his fault." And that had nothing to do with her, anyway.

"And I was just doing my job," he responded with an eerie calmness. "But then your father got in the way of what I wanted, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone. Well, strictly speaking, only one bird actually died, but I'm sure you get my meaning."

He wasn't making any _sense_. It appeared Holly's initial instinct was very much correct—the man was insane. There was no telling if what he said was true or not. But she still needed answers to questions that had been plaguing her for her whole life. "What are you talking about?" She clenched her jaw. She hated how weak and vulnerable she felt. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing, actually. I talked to him and then he killed himself. He made a deal trying to protect you."

Hot fear expanded in her chest. "What did you do to _me_?"

"A simple spell. Well, simple if you're a mage."

Elrond had mentioned something about dark magic...and mages. This, the dark magic, the dragon—it was starting to come together. "What sort of spell?"

"A binding spell, between two souls. Between yours…"

"And a dragon's," Holly finished for him, ears ringing. She risked a glance at the shadow of the Lonely Mountain, barely visible in the dim glow of the moon. "_Smaug…_"

Damon nodded. "Your father wasn't too happy about that. I told him I would lift the spell if he got out of my way. Permanently."

"But you didn't lift the spell." And she'd lost her father for nothing.

"No. I couldn't, even if I had wanted to. It's permanent—one soul cannot live without the other. But I got my revenge, and I didn't have to lay a finger on him."

"Why would you do that? And why me?" It was too specific of an action to be solely about revenge. He had to have had some other motive.

"War is coming. It has been for a long time, and having a dragon at the head of an army would be pretty useful. All of those places I suggested you visit—Gondor, Rivendell—now the dragon knows exactly how to burn it all to the ground."

'Suggested' was a gross understatement. Holly felt lightheaded. Smaug had been in her head the entire time and Damon was able to reach her as well, probably because he had been the one to cast the spell. And the fact that she had been manipulated and tortured into helping someone raze Middle Earth to the ground was likely another reason why her head was spinning.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Holly asked, her voice sounding faint even though she was speaking at a normal volume. "Because now that I know what's going on, you can be sure I won't be helping with your little _war effort_ any more."

Damon took slow steps towards her until they were mere inches apart. Holly glared, refusing to back down despite the adrenaline and fear rushing through her veins. "It's not about the war anymore. Not for me. While your friends fight the dragon, it will be a battle of wills for you—two minds, two bodies fighting for consciousness, for control. And I think we both know who's winning so far."

She did. Those seemingly random moments when she would black out, and have visions of what must have been Erebor, were not lapses in her own consciousness, but just the opposite for the dragon. Holly couldn't keep control of her consciousness for even a few seconds. If Smaug were to have a reason to stay awake, she would have no hope of fighting back.

"And then you'll be forced to watch your friends be slaughtered by the dragon."

"Not if they kill it first," she spat.

"But if Smaug dies, you die as well."

_Checkmate._ She was trapped between two equally unfavorable solutions. Dying meant leaving behind a life she had finally found worth living. But Holly would be damned if she let anything happen to her friends.

Either way, she would end up losing everything.

Holly sucked in a deep breath, which required more effort than it should have. He had planned all of this, as part of a vindictive revenge plot that had too little to do with her.

She stepped forward, jaw clenching as anger welled up inside her. "You are a sadistic _freak—_"

The blow to her face came so hard and fast that Holly couldn't catch her fall. She landed hard on her back, the back of her head knocking against the ground. Blood welled in her mouth from where she had bitten down on her tongue.

"Sadistic? You're completely right." Damon took another step towards her but she had already scrambled to her feet and was running down the street. "Don't think I'm done with you, Holly," he called after her.

Holly ran until her legs gave out. She leaned against a wall, shaking violently. Blind terror slowly gave away to a tumult of information as she tried to process everything she had been told.

Her father had been forced to take his own life. She had been living the past couple of decades with a dragon inside her head, watching her every move. A dragon that, using sheer force of will, could take away her control over her consciousness. A dragon that had all the knowledge it needed to destroy her friends as well as the rest of Middle Earth. Smaug had seen and heard everything—the hidden door, the key, their entire plan. He knew exactly how to make the quest fail.

And on top of that, Holly was being stalked by an insane one-legged man equipped with dark magic and the ability to turn her dreams into nightmares.

She pushed herself to her feet. What if he was following her? With a wary glance at the darkened windows and empty streets, she began walking aimlessly through the town. Perhaps she would be safer if she kept moving.

_Don't tell them_. That had been Damon, in Mirkwood. Somehow he had known the forest's magic would weaken the barrier between her soul and the dragon's enough to make her hear Smaug's voice in her head.

Of course she couldn't tell the Company. And she couldn't go with them to Erebor, either. That would mean putting them in more danger—Smaug would be fully aware of their every move. Holly squeezed her eyes shut, head pounding.

_Just a normal Tuesday…_

She needed to find them.

Hopefully she could catch up before they left, so she could say goodbye.

….

The rising sun turned the sky a pale white-gold. Despite the early hour, many of the Laketown citizens were awake and had congregated around the main canal that led through the city.

Holly pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the various grumbles and protests she received. She would find Thorin and tell him she wasn't going with them. It would be easier to talk to him—he wasn't one to express concern over her emotional well being and probably wouldn't ask too many questions.

She spotted his dark mane next to a small barge, which he was filling with weapons and supplies. The others were climbing into the vessel, dressed in pieces of guard's uniforms that were much too big for them.

Holly started at the pressure of a hand on her shoulder. But she forced herself to relax at the sound of a familiar voice, and turned to face its owner.

"Where have you _been_? I was worried sick!" Bilbo said, concern and relief mingling in his blue eyes.

Eru, this wasn't going to be as easy as she'd hoped.

"Sorry. I decided to take a walk and lost track of time." It was difficult to tell a lie to him, even such a transparent one, but it wouldn't matter for much longer.

His eyes flickered to the clearly visible bruise on her jaw, the corners of his mouth turning downwards. For a moment he looked as if he wanted to argue, but then he dropped his hand from her shoulder, giving a small sigh. "We'll talk about it later. Once we're out of here we can—"

"No, we can't. I'm not—I'm not going with you, Bilbo." Holly's lungs felt as though they were deflating as she said the words.

"What? Why?"

She couldn't meet his gaze, so she focused on the distant figure of the Lonely Mountain instead. She couldn't tell him. If Bilbo knew, if any of them knew what she was, the fact that she had potentially sabotaged the whole quest…

Bilbo followed her stare. "It's Smaug, isn't it?"

Panic jolted knifelike through her chest. He couldn't possibly know. But then again, what if Damon had found him, and told him…?

"You're afraid of the dragon."

Her panic deflated somewhat. He thought she was afraid of the dragon simply because it was a giant firebreathing monster. Which was partially true. Holly nodded—a half-truth was better than no explanation at all.

"Oh," Bilbo said. He was still looking at her with some concern, but knowing the reason for her distress seemed to have relieved him somewhat. He reached out to take her hand. "It's all right. You don't have to be afraid. You're safe with us. We'll protect you."

"_No_." Holly stepped back, removing her hand from his grasp. The word came out harsher than she meant it to, but if she softened up now she would break down entirely. "You can't. I'm staying behind."

"Holly, we're your friends. We look out for each other."

"No," she said again, backing away. Tears pricked her eyes as she stared at the hurt and confusion pooling in his. "Alone is what protects me. Not you."

And before she could do any more damage, Holly turned her back and disappeared into the crowd.

**And the truth is out! I get this chapter wasn't much action, really just exposition, but next chapter will have some more interactions with the dwarves. And the chapter after that...things get real.**

**And, uh, apologies about the ending of this chapter. But hey, love in action is harsh and dreadful, right? *points to the beginning quote of the first chapter***

**Anyways, thanks to everyone who's supported me so far-I really appreciate it. Feel free to leave a comment telling me what you think; it helps me out a lot!**


	19. A Last Confession

**Chapter 19**

"_What can be avoided_

_Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods?"_

—_Shakespeare; __Julius Caesar_

Holly pushed her way through the crowd, bring up one hand to wipe her eyes—and consequently failed to avoid the stout figure that rammed into her, nearly knocking her over.

"Watch it!" she snapped, then realized whom she was snapping at. "Bofur?"

The dwarf pushed his hat up from where it had fallen over his eyes and looked around frantically. "Did I miss the boat? Have the others left yet?"

Holly glanced back at the canal. The crowd was already dispersing, and the barge was nowhere in sight. "Yes. The others are gone."

"Why aren't you with them?"

She turned back to the dwarf, fixing him with a sharp stare. "Why aren't you?"

Bofur hung his head. "I had a bit too much to drink last night," he explained. "I overslept."

Holly had already guessed as much. But asking had successfully diverted his attention from his own unanswered question.

Bofur glanced around the emptying docks, shoulders sagging. He had lost his opportunity, Holly realized, to reclaim Erebor along with the others, even though he had worked just as hard as the rest of them. She was trying to think of something comforting to say when he perked up, attention focused on a small group sitting the the docks.

Holly followed him over to the group, and felt a rush of shock as she recognized Fili, Kili, and Oin. What were they doing still in Laketown?

"So you missed the boat as well?" Bofur asked.

Fili shook his head. "Thorin would not let Kili come." He was supporting his brother with one arm. Kili's skin was unnervingly pale and his gaze was unfocused. Fili was almost as pale as his brother. "I think he's sick."

Holly twisted her coat sleeves nervously. It was likely his arrow wound had been infected. And now Smaug knew that four of the dwarves wouldn't be traveling to Erebor, and that one of them was injured and vulnerable. She grit her teeth. Even though she had practically abandoned the Company for their own good, she still managed to put them in danger.

Kili slumped forward with a low moan. Fili managed to catch him before he hit the ground. "Kili!" Bofur reached out as well to support him.

"Do you think his leg got infected?" Holly suggested quietly.

Fili sent his brother a sharp glance. "You told me your leg was fine."

"I _am_ fine," Kili insisted, though his speech was slightly slurred and he was leaning heavily on Fili and Bofur.

Oin stood up. "We need to get the lad somewhere I can tend to him."

They went to the master for help first. Holly knew it was a bad idea, and said so, but Kili's condition was worsening by the minute, and they knew the master had the resources to help them. Whether or not he had the motivation was another question.

They caught up to him outside the Town Hall. "Wait!" Fili called out, struggling to keep his brother upright. "Please, we need your help. My brother is sick."

"Sick? Is it infectious?" The master recoiled, fumbling for his handkerchief. "G-Get back! Alfrid! Alfrid, don't let them come any closer!" Aflrid made a poor attempt to shield the master with his arms.

"He's not infectious." Holly stepped forward, doing her best to keep her tone civil. "And if he was, you would have already been exposed to any sort of germs he would have been carrying." At this, the master recoiled even further.

"We need medicine," Oin interjected as Fili gave Holly a _you're not helping_ look.

"Do I look like an apothecary to you?" Alfrid sneered. "Haven't we given you enough? The master is a busy man. He doesn't have time to worry about _sick dwarves_." He spat the last two words and the five of them were pushed out of the square by a group of guards.

"What do we do now?" Bofur wondered aloud, glancing back at the master and Alfrid as they disappeared into the Town Hall. "I really thought they would help us."

"No one in this town gives a damn about other people unless something is in it for them," Holly sighed. "The master wants gold—the whole 'hospitality' thing last night wasn't out of the kindness of his heart." She doubted they would find anyone willing to help them unconditionally.

Unless…

"No." Bard's expression darkened as soon as he opened the door. "No. I'm done with dwarves. Go away." He tried to slam the door, but Bofur stopped it with his foot.

"Wait! No one will help us. Kili's sick—he's very sick."

"We don't know what to do," Holly added, determined to say the right thing this time. "We're afraid he's…" She deliberately trailed off, gazing at the man with wide eyes.

Bard glanced back at Kili, clearly doubting his previous statement. "One night," he said after a long pause. "And then I don't want to see any of you again."

Fili and Bofur thanked him profusely and helped Kili onto one of the beds inside. Oin took out his medicine bag and began undoing the makeshift bandages around his leg.

"Is there...anything I can do to help?" Holly took a tentative step forward. She wasn't too practiced in the medical field, but the least she could do was offer what assistance she could provide.

"What you can do is get some rest," Oin replied without looking up. "You look like you haven't slept in a week."

She felt like it. She hadn't slept at all the previous night, and the night before that, in Thranduil's dungeons, had been restless and disturbed.

But there was no way she was going to sleep if it meant seeing _him_ again. "I'm well rested enough." Did nearly drowning count as sleep?

"Oin's right. You look exhausted," Fili said.

"You can take Sigrid and Tilda's room in the back," Bard added.

Holly sighed. If she kept protesting, they might become suspicious. "Fine. I'll see you lot in a few hours."

She nearly stumbled into the tiny bedroom—now that her mind had acknowledged her lack of sleep, her body was starting to feel it—and shut the door behind her. Perhaps a few hours of sleep was just what she needed…

_No._ A simple rest would turn into something far worse. Holly slumped against the door, sliding down until she was sitting with her back against the wood. She would wait a few hours, then walk back out and act as though she'd slept.

It wasn't that good of a plan, but she was too tired to care. But not tired enough to fall asleep.

Hopefully.

Holly peered through the window, where sunlight was streaming in. She wondered how the others were faring. It would probably take them the whole day to get to the mountain. And after that…

The chance that they would both survive and see each other again was extremely slim. Smaug wouldn't rest until all the dwarves were dead. Holly waited for the tears to come, but she simply felt too spent, like a washcloth wrung until it had no water left.

It was only when she thought of Bilbo, and how harsh she had been, that her eyes began to sting. She should not have said what she said. But it was too late now, and she was left with the thought that her sharp words would probably be the last thing she ever said to him.

…..

At the foot of the Lonely Mountain, a small valley dipped down into a rocky plain, then rose again in a steep embankment, the top of which held a collection of old, abandoned buildings. Snow and ash dusted its forlorn rooftops and empty streets. The bleached alabaster of the buildings combined with swirling mist made the structure look eerily like a skeleton.

Bilbo surveyed the pitiful landscape, all of it painted a cheerless gray. There were no trees, no plants to be found anywhere. It all looked very...sad. "What is this place?"

"It was once the city of Dale," Balin answered. "Now it is a ruin. The desolation of Smaug."

"It's so quiet," Bilbo observed. The air was empty of the rustling of trees or the noises of wild animals—the silence almost felt like that of a tomb.

"It wasn't always like this. Once, these slopes were lined with woodlands, and trees filled with birdsong." Balin gazed at the barren, rocky tundra, a mournful half-smile on his face.

"The sun will soon reach midday," Thorin broke in, scaling the slope and searching for a way across the valley. "Let's find the hidden door before it sets. This way." He began making his way down a worn path to their right.

The others followed. Bilbo paused and sent a glance back at the Long Lake, towards the small, dark shape that was Laketown.

_Alone is what protects me. Not you._

Holly's words had stung, and confused him as well. Last night she had been so..._open_ with him. They'd finally been able to figure things out. And then she'd disappeared for several hours, only showing up at the last minute with a _bruise_ on her face, looking like the world had fallen out from beneath her feet. He'd wanted to help her with whatever had her so frightened, but she'd acted even more closed off than before.

What if she'd acted that way because of him? What if she had changed her mind about how she felt towards him?

Bilbo shook his head. It was no use worrying about it now. Once this whole business with the dragon was over, he would talk to her about it.

That is, if she was even willing to listen.

…

Holly was abruptly awoken when someone opened the door to the bedroom, causing her to fall flat on her back.

"Umf!" She let out a small noise of surprise and glared up at Bofur, who had jumped back after opening the door. "Can I help you?"

"You know, people usually sleep on the bed, not the floor," the dwarf answered amusedly.

"Right…"Holly muttered, getting to her feet. She was annoyed with herself for falling asleep, but thankfully she hadn't had any nightmares. She'd gotten lucky, was all. And luck had a tendency to run out. "How long was I asleep?"

"Sunset was about an hour ago," Bofur answered.

"And how is Kili?"

Bofur's smile slid into a frown. "Not good."

Fili and Oin were tending to him in the next room. The young dwarf was sleeping fitfully, sweat gleaming on his face. If possible, he looked worse than before.

Holly took a seat next to Fili. "Is he poisoned?"

The blond dwarf turned abruptly at her inquiry, and she realized that might have been a bit too blunt. Holly shook her head. "I mean, um...how is he?"

"Oin thinks it is poison," Fili confirmed in a heavy voice.

"Oh." Holly glanced at Kili. His whole body was tense with severe pain, even in sleep. "Do you think Oin will be able to treat him?"

"Look, I _don't know_, okay?" Fili snapped, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. It's just...I'm worried for Kili."

"It's all right. You have every reason to be worried, seeing as he's your brother...and you're close to him." And they must have been especially close if the normally calm and level-headed dwarf was acting that way.

Fili looked up at her. "Do you have any siblings?"

Holly blinked at the abrupt question, then her lips twitched into a frown. "...An older sister."

"And you would do anything to protect her, would you not?"

Questionable. "I would do anything to protect my friends. I would do anything to protect the Company." They had become something akin to family to her. She didn't know all of them that well, but she would, without a doubt, do anything to save them. Even if 'anything' meant dying. "Um." Holly swallowed hard, feeling strangely emotional. "Let me know if you need any help taking care of Kili."

As if on cue, the dark-haired dwarf let out a cry of pain, eyes flying open. Oin leapt to his feet and ordered Bofur to get some hot water.

"I need herbs, something to bring down his fever," the healer said, rifling through his medicine bag.

Bard stood up as well and grabbed several jars off a shelf. "I have nightshade, feverfew—"

"They're no use to me. Do you have any kingsfoil?"

Bard drew his eyebrows together. "No, it's a weed. We feed it to the pigs."

Bofur turned around. "Pigs? Weed? Right." He turned back to Kili. "Don't move," he ordered rather unnecessarily, then started for the door. Halfway there, he paused. "Where exactly—?"

Holly stood up. "I'll come with you. I know where it is."

The two of them hurried out of the house and down an alleyway. Laketown was a veritable maze with its criss-crossing canals and alleys and lack of bridges, but when one had lived in said maze, it was easier to navigate.

"This way." Holly made another turn and the Lonely Mountain came into view. She suppressed a shudder. The others would have reached the mountain by now, and if everything had gone according to plan, they should be inside. How long did she have, before—

"What's wrong?" Bofur's voice shook her out of her thoughts. "You've been acting strange all day."

"I'm worried for the others." That was as truthful as she could get.

"Don't be worried, lass. Thorin knows what he's doing," Bofur assured her.

Holly nodded. "I don't doubt it." Perhaps Thorin would find a way to kill the dragon. But how could he do so with only nine dwarves, when an entire army had failed?

"Say, did you and Bilbo ever work out things between you two?"

She winced. Apparently _everyone_ in the Company knew what was going on between them. "Well…" They had, for a few hours before she'd messed everything up again. "I don't know. I have no idea what I'm doing with this whole...romance thing."

He patted her on the shoulder. "You'll figure it out. Everyone does, eventually. If I were you, I would have some ale, spend a night with him, and work things out in the morning."

Holly was silent for several moments. "I'll...just stick with the latter of the three. Anyway. Kingsfoil." They'd reached the pen where the pigs were kept.

Bofur apologetically grabbed a bundle of the plant from a pig's mouth and they hurried back to Bard's.

They were nearly there when a high-pitched scream sounded from the house, followed by a crash of splintering wood. Moments later, an orc dropped down from a roof and landed right in front of them, drawing a jagged sword and knocking Bofur from his feet.

Holly stumbled back. The orcs from the river had found them. She was looking around for something to defend herself with when everything went black—

_Deep within the mountain, atop mountains and rivers of gold, a tiny presence was making its way through the vast horde of treasure._

_One small piece of treasure was all it took for a wave of gold to slide out of place, revealing burnt-red, age-worn scales._

_Smaug could smell the little thief. He could hear its breath, sense its presence in the vast hall._

_Perhaps it was time to remind the small creature exactly who he was stealing from._

_He rose from his position beneath the gold, the treasure sliding off him in shimmering waves._

"_Where are you, thief? Come now, don't be shy. Step into the light."_

**So...ye I did the thing :E But good news-that means next chapter is 100% Smaug POV, which was actually super fun to write and I hope you guys enjoy reading it. I've always liked sort of analyzing what it would be like in his head anyway. :D**

**I also liked writing a bit more interaction with Fili, Kili, Bofur, ect. They really don't get much mentioning in this story so I'm glad they got a bit of time to themselves!**

**Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Leave a comment telling me what you think, and if you had to use one word to describe Holly, what would it be? ('Problematic' is already taken by me lol)**

**And shoutout to dr-watsonn for the awesome hashtag #StopHurtingBilbo2k15 I think we should all get matching tattoos of that hashtag.**

**Until next time :)**


	20. His Last Flight

**Chapter 20**

"_What it comes down to is I want the diamonds more than I'm afraid of the snakes." —Truman Capote; __In Cold Blood_

"There is something about you, thief in the shadows…" the dragon mused. Smaug slithered around one of the columns in the hall, flicking his tail as he moved. It was delightful to stretch his muscles after such a long period of dormancy. "Something you carry." He could feel the dark tendrils of a powerful magic extending and reverberating around the hall. And its source… "Something made of gold, but far more..._precious_."

With a gasp, the tiny creature became visible, cowering next to a pillar as he slid a small gold item into his pocket. Strange...it had a similar feel to—but no, it was impossible that such a weakling could be in possession of such a powerful object. He ducked down to eye level with the halfling. "There you are...thief in the shadows."

"I did not come to steal from you, O Smaug the...unassessably wealthy," the halfling stammered, surprising him. Was he actually attempting to _lie_? "I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you were really as great as the old tales say. I-I did not believe them."

He _was_ attempting to lie. How amusing.

Well...he would show him just how _formidable_ a dragon could be.

Smaug rose from his crouch, stepping around the pillar into full view and spreading his wings. "And do you now?" he thundered. His voice echoed around the hall for a full minute before the halfling spoke again.

"Truly, the tales and songs fall utterly short of your magnificence, O Smaug the Stupendous."

"Do you think flattery will keep you alive?" Smaug growled.

"N-No, no."

"No, indeed." The creature's lies were pathetic and flimsy. He already knew what the halfling had been doing and who had sent him to rifle through his treasure in the first place. But how much was the halfling willing to fabricate to save his own skin? "You seem familiar with my name, though I don't remember smelling your kind before." He brought himself closer, looking straight into the halfling's eyes. "Who are you, and where do you come from, may I ask?"

"I…" The creature paused, eyes flickering down at something in the piles of gold. Out of the corner of his eye, Smaug could see the ethereal light of the Arkenstone. So that was what those filthy dwarves wanted… "I come from under hill."

"Under hill?" Smaug repeated, intrigued despite himself.

The halfling nodded furiously, eyes flickering once more to the Arkenstone. "And under hills, and over hills, my path has led...and-and through the air. I am he who walks unseen."

Ah. He was speaking in riddles, describing what he had experienced on his journey. Smaug could recognize a few of the events from what he had seen through the young woman's eyes. "Impressive. What else do you _claim_ to be?"

"I-I am...luck-wearer. Riddle-maker."

"Lovely titles. Go on."

"B-Barrel-rider…"

Oh, he was losing his courage. Smaug could _smell_ his fear. "Barrels? Now that is intriguing." On the contrary, he was rather losing his interest in the halfling's riddles. It was time to end their little game. "And what about your little dwarf friends? Where are they hiding?"

"D-Dwarves?" the halfling repeated, feigning ignorance—and rather poorly, at that. "No, no dwarves here. You've got that all wrong. I...came in here by myself. Stumbled upon the entrance, in fact. I'm all alone."

The dragon smirked. "Now, I did not ask you how you came into this place, or even if you had come here alone. You've given me an awful lot of information for someone who is _telling the truth_. No, I know your dwarf friends are skulking about outside while you do their dirty work in here."

"Truly, you are mistaken, O Smaug, Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities."

He rather liked that one. "You have _nice_ manners...for a thief and a liar," the dragon snarled. "I know the smell and taste of dwarf. None better." The halfling thought he was being sneaky, inching toward where the Arkenstone lay. "It is the gold—they are drawn to treasure like flies to dead flesh." He brought his claws down upon the pile of gleaming jewels, sending the Arkenstone skittering down the slopes of gold. The halfling skittered after it.

"Did you think I did not know this day would come?" Smaug roared, "When a pack of canting dwarves would come crawling back to the mountain?!" He pushed a column aside as he followed the Arkenstone's glittering path, the rock crumbling easily in his grip.

He had known for months that the dwarves were coming, and had thoroughly enjoyed watching their struggles and toils. But he had never expected the filth to survive the journey. And now that they were prowling at his doorstep like petty thieves, he would make sure to slaughter every last one. They could not hope to stand against his might.

"The King under the mountain is dead," he declared as the halfling scrambled out from beneath his claws. "I took his throne. I ate his people like a wolf among sheep. I kill _where_ I wish, _when_ I wish. My armor is iron." Smaug spread his wings, gliding down to a stone structure as the halfling hid underneath. "No blade can pierce me!"

And their leader, the supposed dwarvish 'king'—he was the worst of all of them. "Oakenshield...that filthy usurper...he was the one to send you in to get the Arkenstone."

"No, no, no. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, if you're going to lie to me, at least do a good job of it. I've known his foul purpose for quite some time. But it matters not. Oakenshield's quest will fail. The darkness is coming. It will spread to every corner of the land," he hissed. Smaug knew of the dark mage's plan to destroy Middle Earth, and once he had rid his mountain of dwarves, he would gladly burn the rest of its kingdoms to the ground, if only to stretch his wings. It could get boring at times, sitting in a mountain for decades on end.

The halfling had gone quiet. "You have been used, thief in the shadows," Smaug taunted, bending his head down next to the thief's hiding place. "You were only ever a means to an end. The coward Oakenshield has weighed the value of your life, and found it worth _nothing_."

"No. No. No, you're lying!"

"_You_ would speak to _me_ of lying, thief? Oh, you have been deceived. Do you think Oakenshield values you as a friend? Lies. Do you really think _she_ could care for you? All _lies_."

A long silence echoed throughout the hall.

Smaug rose from his crouch and surveyed the mountains of gold surrounding them. "What did Oakenshield promise you? A share of the treasure? As if it was his to give. I will not part with a _single_ coin. Not one piece of it." He slithered off the platform and turned to face the halfling. The little creature had been inching forward and the Arkenstone was between the two of them, inches away from his large, furry feet.

"I am almost tempted to let you take it, if only to see Oakenshield suffer. Watch it destroy him, watch it corrupt his heart and drive him _mad_," the dragon sneered. He knew of the gold sickness, and its influence upon the line of Durin. If the dwarf king did manage to get his hands on the Arkenstone, it would be a fitting punishment for his thievery. "But I think not. I think our little game ends here. So tell me, thief, how do you choose to die?" He inhaled deeply, a white-hot, bone-melting heat building in his chest, but the halfling slipped his trinket on again and disappeared.

Enraged, Smaug let forth his fire with a mighty roar, spreading the flames across the stone floor. Once the flames had disappeared, he drew back, searching the room with sharp eyes.

He could sense the dark, pulsating energy moving swiftly up one of the staircases, and made to follow it. He was about to send another gout of flame down the hallway where the halfling was making his escape when he paused. No doubt the little creature was running back to his dwarvish allies, and after realizing he had failed to retrieve the Arkenstone, they would have no choice but to battle him. And then he would kill all of them at once.

One way or another, the dwarves would meet their demise.

….

Smaug could hear the dwarves and the halfling crawling about in the forges. It was an open area, and not easily defensible. Clearly they were plotting something...but it mattered little. They had no hope to kill him.

The dragon rounded the corner and entered the hall adjacent to the forges. The dwarves stood just beyond his reach—a lattice of metal pillars occupied the space between them. One of the dwarves started forward, taking a cocky stance between two pillars.

"I did not look to see you so easily outwitted!" It was Oakenshield, the miserable rat.

Outwitted? No. Perhaps he had walked straight into whatever trap they had prepared, but the dwarves had fallen into his own trap simply by entering his domain.

"You have grown slow and fat in your dotage," the dwarf taunted. "_Slug_."

Smaug snarled at this. He would sorely regret those words.

The intruders scrambled for cover—only seven of them, he noted, as opposed to nine—as the dragon let loose a barrage of flame. The nearer side of the pillars turned a glowing white-orange with the heat of his fire. The dragon waited with sharp eyes as the last of his flames dissolved in the stale air.

Irritatingly, the dwarves and the halfling appeared to have survived his assault. They scrambled from their hiding places behind the wide pillars, heading for the large stone furnaces that glowed with newfound fire.

That had been their plan—to provoke him into relighting the forges. Perhaps they meant to craft some weapons, the dragon thought with a smirk.

The dragon slammed his weight against the metal pillars, the barrier buckling with a shriek. It only took a few more blows to create a sizable enough hole for Smaug to use his claws to pry apart the pillars. He crawled into the room, letting out a low growl as he searched for the black-haired dwarf.

A sudden weight forced the dragon downwards. A resounding crash followed as a string of mining carts that had hung from above slammed into the ground on either side. Smaug shook off the irksome burden, unfazed. The two missing dwarves must have cut the line from above.

No sooner had he regained his footing that a blinding flash stunned him. Across the room, another groups of dwarves were lobbing small explosives at him. Smaug quickly shook off the effects of the blast, ire turning into anger. Their petty attempts to harm him were growing tiresome.

Oakenshield stood near one of the furnaces, giving orders to his kin. He would be the first to die. The dragon opened his maw, white-hot death building and releasing—

A gust of icy water enveloped his fire, extinguishing the flames with a hiss of steam. Smaug seethed in discomfort and crushed the source of the water where it spouted from the mouth of a dwarvish head carved from the stone wall. Oh, how he longed to crush a _real_ dwarf's skull, but unfortunately one was only afforded a single opportunity to kill a creature, and he was already set on burning them to ash.

"_Enough_," the dragon snarled. "You have had your games, now it is time to _die_."

The dwarves responded rather appropriately to this, turning and running towards the halls near the entrance of Erebor. He smirked at their cowardice. "Flee, flee! Run for your lives! There is no where to hide."

They had distracted him long enough to make the forges operational, he noticed, and had managed to melt down the gold waiting in the furnaces from a long-abandoned undertaking. The precious metal flowed in undulating, glistening streams through grooves in the floor, surging in the same direction as the dwarves. Smaug narrowed his eyes. Liquid or solid, the filth would not be stealing any of his treasure.

He slithered back through the hole he had wrought in the iron gate, taking a briefer path to the Gallery of the Kings, which was adjacent to the entrance hall. He would cut them off there and put an end to their little _escapade_.

The stone wall crumbled easily under his grip, aged tapestries fluttering to the floor as the dragon stalked into the room. "You think you could deceive me, barrel-rider?" he called out to the silent space. No doubt the dwarves were cowering in a corner. He would have to draw them out with words. "I know you have come from Laketown. A pitiful place, full of sniveling cowards with their windlances and _black arrows_." Thankfully, he knew where the windlance was in the town, and could easily destroy it should the need ever arise. "Perhaps it's time I pay them a visit…" He turned to the front gate of Erebor.

Sure enough, the halfling's voice rang out in the vast hall as the small creature scurried out from underneath one of the fallen tapestries. "This isn't their fault! _Wait_! You cannot go to Laketown!"

Smaug turned, a cruel sneer twisting his lips. "You _care_ about them, do you? Good. Then you can watch them _die_."

This was enough to draw out the rest of the dwarves. "Here, you witless worm!" Oakenshield called out from the end of the Gallery of the Kings. No doubt the rest of his shabby subordinates were hiding nearby.

Smaug turned, smooth, cold anger glowing in his eyes. "_You_…"

"I am taking back what you stole."

Oakenshield stood on a conglomeration of rock lumps, bracing himself with a chain connected to the surrounding dragon advanced slowly on the dwarf. "You would take nothing from _me_, dwarf. _I_ laid low your warriors of old. _I_ instilled terror in the hearts of men. _I_ am King under the Mountain."

"This is not your kingdom. These are dwarf lands, this is dwarf gold, and we will have our revenge," Oakenshield declared, glaring in defiance as Smaug reached his eye level. He shouted something in the guttural dwarvish language and pulled hard on his chain.

The apparatus holding the rocks together was released. The dragon watched as the rock mold fell away piece by piece to reveal…

"_Ah_." Smaug momentarily forgot about the dwarves and his revenge, eyes riveted on the magnificent solid gold statue before him. A familiar sensation and possessive thrill shivered its way down his spine. The work before him was exquisite, splendid, _flawless—_

The slightest distortion on the surface of the statue brought his attention back to the present. The golden exterior rippled, then burst, a shower of molten gold raining down. Smaug watched, frozen, as more pockets of hot gold burst and bubbled, and the gold statue began to collapse on itself. Once again, he had been distracted by the dwarves, and could not move fast enough to escape the torrent of burning metal as it dragged his body down like a lead blanket. He let out one last snarl as his head was submerged. The gold filled his mouth with a hot, bitter, metallic taste.

The traitorous substance _burned_ him, its weight oppressive and suffocating_._ Smaug tried to lift his smarting wings and found that he could not. He was trapped.

_We will have our revenge._

No. He could not allow the dwarves to win, and take his gold. It would be an unacceptable, not to mention embarrassing, fate. With one heave of his powerful muscles, Smaug burst from his golden prison with an agonized roar.

"Revenge? _Revenge_? I will show you revenge!"

If he could not kill the dwarves outright, he could still cause them tremendous pain and crush their allies.

Smaug burst through the front gate and into the cool night air, leaving the dwarves crying out behind him. One graceful twist of his body shed the golden sheen that had weighed him down. The dragon spread his wings against the moonlit clouds. Oh, how he had missed being able to stretch his wings like this.

And he would doubly enjoy slaughtering the men of the lake.

As Smaug drew closer to the small town, he could hear faint screams and the ominous ringing of a bell. The villagers could see him coming, he realized with a sneer. They could flee or they could fight, but none would escape his wrath.

He flew low over the water, circling the town with his left side angled away from the town. Indeed, one of the scales under his wing had been loosened, and he would take no chances if his suspicions proved to be correct and a black arrow really was concealed in Laketown.

The windlance was the first to go, the wood and metal creaking and twisting as Smaug crushed it between his claws. He perched on the rickety wooden building, surveying the old, rotting wood, the tiny glints of terrified eyes staring up at him.

"I am fire. I am..._death_," the dragon growled, and launched himself into the air to release devastation upon the town and its people.

Within minutes Laketown was ablaze. Charred and flaming wood crumbled into the lake, sending sparks flying into the still night air. A haze of smoke, the smell of burning flesh, and the screams of the damned filled the air. Smaug inhaled deeply. The mixture was _intoxicating_. He was loathe to leave so soon, but it was time to return to the mountain and hunt down the dwarf-filth.

No matter. Once he was done with them, he would turn towards the kingdoms in the south. Or perhaps he would go west first. Regardless, they would all burn in the end—

The metallic _twang_ of an arrow striking his hide brought the dragon out of his reverie. Though he could not feel the blow, the noise alone alerted him to the presence of someone in the town who was attempting to _attack_ him. Whoever it was, he had to be entirely insane or merely stupid.

In either case, such impudence would not be tolerated.

Smaug located his assailant atop the bell tower in the center of town. The dragon landed a few blocks away, turning to the man with a snarl.

"Who are you, that would dare stand against me?" He advanced on the tower, burning buildings crumbling under his claws. Through the smoke, a familiar visage of a certain bargeman glared back at him. "Did you really hope to defeat me? _Pathetic_."

But nocked in his bow was a long, slender, obsidian arrow. Somehow the man had managed to obtain the one weapon that could truly kill him. The dragon circled the tower, keeping his distance. Surely the bowman knew of the exposed area on his left side, but if he could not see it, he could not strike it.

"Your precious town is gone, _bowman_, and your people are dead. You are forsaken." He leaned forward, baring his fangs. "And now you, who has been so foolish as to defy me, will peri—acchh!" The dragons' words were cut short as an unfathomable _pain _erupted in the back of his throat. White stars showered in his eyesight. His vision unfocused and refocused, and through his confusion he could see the man holding an empty bow—he had been _hit_.

Smaug shook his head, causing an excruciating tearing sensation, and flailed his wings in an attempt to fly, to escape from this overwhelming agony, but he was not strong enough.

The fire, the moonlight, the smoke all boiled together in a haze of torment.

And the last of the dragon's fire was extinguished as he plummeted into the waters of the lake.

**This chapter has been the most fun to write so far. Smaug is actually a really interesting character and it was really cool to write in his POV.**

**I made a lot of deviations from the movie plot because I thought some of the action scenes wouldn't translate into writing very well (no way in hell imma make Thorin stand on Smaug's nose...) And I also thought that Smaug would be too smart to expose his weak spot so I was just RIGHT THEN LET'S SHOOT HIM IN THE FACE AND SEVER HIS SPINAL CORD! I hope no one got grossed out by that part.**

**Anyway, leave a comment telling me what you think; it helps me out a lot!**


	21. The Desolation of Smaug

**Chapter 21**

"_What did it mean for a person to be free? Even if you managed to escape from one cage, weren't you just in another, larger one?"—Haruki Murakami; 1Q84_

_Holly was drowning. The surface of the lake wavered in distorted fractures above, glowing orange and gold as flames ravaged the town. The water was clouded red with the blood pouring from her mouth. She watched the red liquid expand into little curling clouds in the water. The building pain in the back of her throat sharpened every detail, but she was unable to scream. _

_She couldn't move. She was too weak. Something was dragging her further into the water, into the darkness, and she couldn't resist it. Perhaps it was better if she didn't…_

_A faint light caught her attention, shining through the murky water above and almost blinding her. It was not the dull, flickering light of a fire, but a white, steady light. It was fading quickly, or perhaps she was losing her vision._

_Someone was calling her name. She wanted to reach out to whomever it was, but she couldn't move her arms. Why couldn't she move her arms?_

Oh, just die already, _a voice growled out from somewhere below her. _I'm sure you'll find it _quite_ enjoyable. No one will bother you ever again. You can leave all your friends behind, like you have a tendency to do…

_No. She could not die, she would not, when her friends could still be in danger. She had to protect them._

_It took every ounce of willpower she had to keep fighting. Every stroke, every movement toward the surface sent waves of agony through her body._

You will never make it_, the voice hissed. _You are weak, mortal, _useless._

_This only spurred her on to reach the light above. Perhaps she could not wield a sword or win a battle, but Holly was not weak. She had fought every second to regain control and consciousness. And in that split second before the dragon's death, she had regained it. If she wanted something, she would find a way to obtain it._

_And at the moment, she wanted to survive. _

_Holly reached out, fingertips brushing the surface of the water. The voice increased its volume, snarling something at her but she paid it no heed, and finally she was able to take a breath of air—_

The ringing in her ears was unbearable. Holly rolled over onto her side and coughed until her eyes watered to try and get rid of the burning sensation in her throat.

"Lass? Can you hear me?" Bofur's voice came somewhere off to the side. "Nod once if you can, nod twice if you can't."

"How would I be able to answer if I couldn't hear you?" Holly croaked, slumping onto her back again.

"Oh, she's fine." That was Fili's voice.

Holly pushed herself into a sitting position with shaking arms. They were sitting on the banks of the Long Lake. All around them, people were calling out the names of their family or pleading for help. People from Laketown, she realized. And the bitter taste in the air was that of smoke. "W-What happened?"

"You fainted again, when we were going back to Bard's," Bofur explained.

"Are you sure you don't get dizzy spells, lass?" Oin broke in. Somehow he had still managed to keep his ear trumpet.

She hugged her knees to her chest. Clearly they hadn't forgotten the last time that had happened. A few days ago, she would have cringed at the thought. But now dizzy spells seemed a rather fortunate condition compared to being possessed by a dragon. "No, I don't. I'm...not sure what happened." Holly looked up and narrowed her eyes. The others were looking at her as though they thought she might pass out again. "Why are you all doing that?"

"You stopped breathing, lass," Bofur answered in a softer tone. "We didn't know what to do."

"I…" Holly tried to remember what had happened after she had blacked out, and the memory felt like a blow to her stomach. Bilbo, the dragon, the gold, the black arrow...It hadn't been a dream.

Smaug was dead. And through her hazy disorientation, she could _feel_ it. A hollow, echoing absence had opened up inside of her. An empty room where someone had once lived. And as much as having a dragon in her head had been terrifying, and inconvenient, and probably physically and mentally unhealthy...Smaug had been there for nearly everything she had ever experienced. And now that he wasn't...

Holly didn't feel liberated. She felt lost.

"We should get moving," Fili announced, breaking her from her thoughts. "If we start now we can reach the mountain by this afternoon."

Holly stood up with the others, hastily wiping her eyes. A warm, pulsing sensation had begun in the lower right side of her chest, but she ignored it. There was quite a few other things she had to sort through. For now, she just wanted to get to the mountain. She wanted to see Bilbo, and apologize to him.

"Are you all right?"

She turned to Fili, who had asked the question. The others were still staring at her.

Holly opened her mouth to reply a habitual, "I'm fine," but paused. The familiar urge to conceal her emotions, and construct a facade of _not feeling_ had completely broken down. "I don't know," she replied honestly. That was all she could manage at the moment.

It would take a while to sort out her feelings about what had happened and how it had affected her. But whatever had changed when Smaug had died...it was permanent, Holly concluded as a light rain began to fall.  
…

They had taken a boat across the lake—whoever had owned it would not be needing it any time soon. The dragon had reduced Laketown to a skeletal structure of crumbling ash and swirling debris. There was nothing left for its former inhabitants to return to.

No trace of Smaug remained either, Holly mused as she stared at the far-off wreckage of the town, merely a black smear on the glassy surface of the lake. They'd stopped for a short rest halfway up the slopes of the mountain. As the sun rose further into the sky, it illuminated the clouds of ash floating corpselike in the water. The dragon had been completely swallowed up by the lake.

Again, the realization came to her, resolute and unyielding, though she still struggled to grasp it. Smaug was dead...and she had made it out alive against all odds.

Perhaps what disturbed her was that the dragon had chosen to attack Laketown despite what Damon had said. By killing her, Smaug would have sealed his own fate as well. Why would he make such a careless decision? She would never know, because the dragon was dead.

She had yet to discover why that bothered her so much. Hadn't she wanted the dragon to die?

Yes, if it meant that her friends lived. And they _had_ lived. She would see them soon.

So why did it feel as though she'd lost something?

"Holly. _Holly_."

She turned. The others stood farther up the slope, and judging by Fili's tone, they'd been trying to get her attention for quite a while.

"Right. Sorry," Holly mumbled as she stood. "We're moving on, then?"

"Yes." Fili and the others waited patiently for her to catch up.

She appreciated that act of consideration. And perhaps she should start returning the favor, she realized, after all the concern they had shown for her. "How's your leg?" she asked Kili as they began walking.

"Better. Much better." The Kingsfoil had helped heal him, and the orcs had been fought off without anyone dying. There had been something about elves too, though that may have been her imagination. Holly had been too preoccupied when they had explained this to her to listen to any of the details.

"I can walk just fine," Kili continued in response to Fili's half-doubtful glance. "We didn't need to stop and rest."

"That was Morgul venom, lad," Oin admonished. "You're lucky to be alive."  
"_Morgul venom_?" Holly's eyes widened. Kili was indeed lucky to be alive. The substance in and of itself could very well be considered a death sentence. It was extremely difficult cure, if one managed to find help in time for that. She looked back at the lake again. "Well, that _is_ ironic…"

"What is?"

"I remember reading somewhere that dragon blood could be used to alleviate the effects of Morgul poison. Not that we could have used Smaug's blood anyway, seeing as he's...at the bottom of the lake." A strange sort of heaviness settled over her. "It probably isn't true anyway." Both the blood and the venom were extremely rare, so it was unlikely that anyone would have been able to test that theory.

"Don't worry about the people of Laketown," Fili said, causing her to turn back to the group. "Thorin will help them rebuild."

Oh. They thought she was upset over the destruction of Laketown and the death of its people. It wasn't that ludicrous of an assumption, seeing as that had been her home town. And she did keep staring off in that general direction.

But Holly no longer considered that home. Even before she had joined the Company, she had long since given up belonging with the people of the lake. What happened to them no longer concerned her. "Rebuilding or no, they'll have to be able to withstand the invasion coming."

Bofur frowned. "Invasion? What makes you say that?"

"Well, people will be looking to the mountain now that the dragon is...gone. And throughout our journey we've managed to anger a mountain full of goblins, a pack of bloodthirsty orcs, and a realm full of wood elves. At least two of the three will try to seek revenge," Holly replied listlessly. "I suppose we will have to prepare for that as well."

Fili nodded. "We'll be ready."

And what she was lacking here, Holly realized, was her usual 'well, obviously…', her confident, brisk tone...she hadn't even looked them in the eyes as she spoke. And the realization struck like a knife to the gut. She really had changed. It was as though Smaug's death had taken something away from who she was.

It was with growing horror that she realized that part of Holly Curuwen might have died along with the dragon.

…

"Thorin, you should eat something. Or at least rest a bit. You've been up all night."

Bilbo's request fell on deaf ears, however, and Thorin continued roaming throughout the mountains of gold, the metal clinking and sliding under his feet.

"There will be time for that later." He had dressed himself in a deep blue robe and a crown, and looked the very image of a king, if a bit dusty. Or he would have, if not for his slightly hunched shoulders and clouded eyes that were a bit too riveted on the surrounding gold. "We need to find the Arkenstone."

"Well, you can't exactly do that if you've dropped dead from exhaustion, can you?"

Thorin finally turned to look at him, and the foreign glint in his eyes made Bilbo's heart drop. All at once, a long-forgotten conversation came back to him, something he should not have heard…

_A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear that Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?_

Elrond had known something about Thorin's family. He had predicted that this would happen, and he had tried to warn Gandalf back in Rivendell.

"Thorin, you look sick. You need rest," Bilbo insisted. Perhaps that wouldn't cure him, but it was a start.

"I will not give up so soon. The Arkenstone is my birthright. We _must_ find it."

The hobbit gave a small huff of irritation. It was as if his words were going in one ear and right out the other. They had been in Erebor for less than a day and the dwarf already seemed like a different person.

_Can you swear that Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?_

Gandalf wasn't here to help Thorin, but perhaps Bilbo could. If he could get them all to leave the mountain, and get as far away from the gold as possible, perhaps he could save him.

He started for the upper halls to tell the others what he was going to do, but paused as a familiar voice reached his ears.  
Someone—no, several someones—were calling out from near the entrance hall.

Bilbo felt a surge of group they had left in Laketown had survived. But this was almost immediately swallowed by panic. Fili and Kili were part of Durin's line as well. He had to warn them before they could reach the gold.

Bilbo sprinted in the direction of the voices. "Wait!" he called. "Wait! Stop!" He met them on the stairwell and skidded to a halt to avoid ramming straight into the group.

"Bilbo! You're alive!" Bofur exclaimed.

He offered the dwarf a hasty smile. "We need to get out of here. This place—something's not right. Something's very wrong. He won't sleep, he doesn't eat—"

"Who?"

"_Thorin_," Bilbo snapped, and immediately regretted his tone, but there was no time to dwell on it. "This place has done something to him, and we need to get him out—"

"Where is he?" Fili demanded, and the hobbit scowled as he was interrupted yet again.

"Look, I don't think you should—Fili!" The blond dwarf had already run past him down the staircase, toward the treasure halls. "Fili!"

Bilbo ran back down the stairs after Fili, the others trailing behind him. "Fili, _wait_!" But he had already reached the hall.

They all came to a halt on a balcony above the piles gold. Fili stood frozen as the others came to stand beside him. Bilbo watched his face with a mixture of concern and anxiety. He didn't know if he could handle two mad dwarves at once. But his eyes held none of the possessiveness that Thorin's had. Instead he seemed...reluctant. Scared, almost.

Then he realized Fili was staring at his uncle, who was still standing among the treasure.

Thorin looked up, taking in their small group. "_Gold_," he murmured, his low voice carrying across the vast expanse of the hall. "Wealth beyond measure, beyond compare…" The dwarf spread his arms, gazing upon the vast shining piles. Without warning, he snatched up a jewel from a nearby pile and hurled it towards them, its gleaming redness singing through the air. Fili caught it with both hands, eyes still riveted on his uncle.

"Welcome, my sister-sons…to Erebor."

With that, Thorin turned back to his gold, heedless of the disturbed stares he received. And if he heard the small clatter as the gem Fili held dropped to the floor, he did not acknowledge it.  
After a long silence, Bofur asked. "Where are the others?"

"They're in the upper halls, trying to find somewhere for us to sleep," Bilbo answered numbly. Meaning they were trying to find a room that _didn't_ contain any skeletons of long-dead dwarves. "They should be up those stairs and to the left." It was only when they began to follow his directions that he noticed someone was missing. "W-Where's Holly?"

Now that he thought about it, Bilbo hadn't seen her with the rest of the dwarves when they'd first arrived. A sick, cold feeling spread through his limbs. What if she hadn't made it out with the rest of them?

But the others only looked confused. "She was with us when we first got here," Kili answered. "Mahal knows where she's gone off to now."

Bilbo let out a small sigh of relief, worry fading into confusion. "Is she all right?" The dwarves exchanged uncertain glances. "Did something happen?"

"You'd best go talk to her, lad," was all Bofur said, and it was all he needed to hear as he set off to find her.

Bilbo hadn't the slightest idea why Holly would disappear like that. Though it was becoming more of a pattern lately, now that he thought about it.

_Perhaps she is simply avoiding you_, a niggling voice suggested from the back of his head, but he pushed it away. Nothing good would come out of speculating like that.

And if she _was_ avoiding him...well, he would find out soon enough.

…..

Once they had reached the entrance to Erebor, Holly had given up and stopped walking.

She'd let the others move past her, and they'd been too occupied calling for the rest of the Company to notice. She wanted to see the others as well, but...not enough to keep moving.

Eru, she just felt so _tired_.

Now she stood in the entrance to Erebor, right in the center of the makeshift doorway Smaug had made for himself. She watched the dusty snow as it swirled around the plains between Erebor and Dale.

It was a bit like losing a tooth, Holly thought, when you kept probing that empty space in your mouth just to check if it was still there. She kept going back to the empty space in her head, mindlessly checking and checking and checking...

"Holly?"

She turned, heart leaping into her throat. "Bilbo." Something light bloomed in her chest upon seeing him alive and well and she momentarily forgot about her melancholy. She was tempted to throw her arms around him but the hesitation in his eyes was enough to make her pause. "I thought I'd never see you again." She cringed. "Sorry. That was the wrong thing to say, wasn't it?"

"A bit, yeah." But even as he said it the corner of Bilbo's mouth twitched upwards and he quickly closed the distance between them, reaching out to pull her into his arms.

Holly leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing her eyes shut. They fell into a long moment of charged silence. _I missed you,_ she wanted to say, but couldn't seem to find the words.

"Don't ever do that to me again," Bilbo murmured lowly.

Holly recalled everything she had said to him at the docks with a surge of guilt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it, I swear." She was trying to think of a way to explain her actions without telling him the whole truth when he pulled away, confusion written on his features.

"What are you talking about?"

Now it was Holly's turn to look confused. "What are _you_ talking about?"

"I...You could have died back there, in Laketown. I was afraid that I'd lost you," he clarified softly.

"Oh." Holly had rather been dreading this moment, but once again Bilbo had surprised her with his concern and compassion. "So...you're not angry with me for what I said?"

"Oh, no, I am still a bit mad at you," Bilbo answered, his stern tone making her flush. "But...I'm also very glad that you're alive."

"So am I," Holly returned with a half-hearted smirk. "And I am truly sorry for what I said. It wasn't true—I was just...confused."

"Confused about what?"

She hesitated. Telling him the truth was out of the question. Bilbo's forgiveness would only go so far. "...Later. I'll explain later."

Holly could not blame the doubt in his eyes. "Promise me?"

"Yes."

Bilbo gave her a grateful smile, and the one she returned tasted bitter with deceit. "All right. Let's go find the others, shall we?"

"Of course. Lead the way."

She felt a bit more herself now that she had talked to Bilbo, Holly realized as she absently rubbed the strange, pulsing spot on her chest.

But perhaps that was because cowardice was the only trait that truly belonged to her.

**Sad ending, sorry :(**

**I was surprised at how many people were concerned that Holly was going to die. We still got all of BOFA to cover, folks! Yeah, she would have to actually get shot to die hahaha...**

**And to those hoping that how she survived wasn't a cop-out, I hope you weren't disappointed. What happened is sure to have serious consequences, both mental-health-wise and plot-wise. **

**Thanks for reading, and make sure to leave a comment letting me know what you think; it helps me out a lot!**


	22. Holly Gives a Demonstration

**Chapter 22**

Erebor felt decidedly empty, Holly observed as she and Bilbo walked through its dusty stone halls, their footsteps echoing far too loudly. There were too many empty windows, empty doorways, unlit torches… The place was a mere husk of what had once been a kingdom full of life.

She sighed as they passed another long-decayed skeleton, the heaviness overtaking her once more. The dwarves that hadn't been immediately killed by the dragon must have starved, trapped in their own homes by the wrath of Smaug. What would it be like, to waste away in a mere shadow of what had once been your entire life? To fade away surrounded by loss?

"Holly?"

"Hm?" She shook the dark train of thought from her mind. No sense in thinking about people that were long dead.

Bilbo smiled up at her. "Coin for your thoughts?"

Holly smiled in spite of herself. "Come on. My thoughts are worth much more than that."

"Shouldn't be a problem, what with the _ridiculous_ amount of gold lying around here."

"Oh?" Holly tried to sound innocent, as if she didn't know _exactly_ how much gold lay within the mountain. "H-How much is there?"

Bilbo frowned in contemplation. "I'd say...at least ten coins."

Holly laughed. The motion made the guilt in the pit of her stomach give an unpleasant twist. "Well, you're not wrong."

This wasn't so bad, she realized—the two of them talking and making jokes like...like normal people.

_A mere imitation, _she had to remind herself. She didn't _feel_ normal.

Oh, and there was that heaviness again.

"Really, though...there is far too much gold down there."

"So you didn't find the Arkenstone?" Holly asked before she could stop herself. She snapped her mouth shut. Of course he hadn't found it. She'd seen what had happened. Smaug had nearly killed Bilbo when he'd tried to grab it, and now it was most likely lost again.

Bilbo hesitated.

Holly shook her head, mentally berating herself. "Sorry. That was…" _Oh, this is awkward._ "It doesn't matter."

She tried to think of something to say that wouldn't end up embarrassing herself. Bilbo looked as if he wanted to say something as well, but they were both distracted by a cluster of voices coming from down the corridor. When they rounded the corner, Holly felt her heart lift at the sight of the dwarves. They were moving about the hall, busy with cleaning the rooms.

She ran forward to greet them. She probably could have walked and expressed the same amount of enthusiasm, but it seemed a better option than attempting to finish their conversation.

"Good to see you all alive," she announced.

"Holly!"

Nori reached her first, pulling her into an embrace that lifted her off her feet a bit. She felt laughter bubbling up in her chest as she hugged him back. Even after such a short separation, she felt ecstatic at seeing them all alive. She reached out to wrap her arms around Dori, then a surprised Ori.

"It's good to see you, lass." Balin gave her a fond smile.

She grinned back at him.

_You know, it wouldn't kill you to actually deal with your problems for once._

And the grin faded. Holly cast a glance back at Bilbo, remembering what she had promised.

_Liar._ She couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell any of them what had happened that night. With Smaug's death, she had lost a part of herself. And she couldn't lose her friends as well, selfish as that was.

_Later._ She would deal with that later.

As the others began to go back to their business, she turned back to Nori. "What's going on right now? Can I help?"

"We're cleaning up the rooms in this hall so we'll have somewhere to sleep. This used to be the place where all the higher-ups lived." Nori motioned for her to follow him into one of the rooms. "We've, ah, gotten rid of most of the corpses. Now we're just dusting everything off and taking out the broken furniture."

Holly surveyed the room. It _was _rather dusty. A thick layer of the substance covered the dark wood of the four-poster bed, the dresser, the thick fabric of the bed sheets, and the fireplace. She noticed unfinished papers lying on the desk, a quill still standing in a long-dried inkpot. A wrinkled shirt hung over the back of one chair.

Whoever had lived here had been in the middle of their lives when Smaug attacked. And everything had been taken away from them.

"Bit depressing, isn't it?" Nori commented, watching her closely.

"Hm." Holly shook herself from her thoughts, sliding under an impassive mask. She couldn't afford to let this place weigh her down.

_Weak,_ whispered the smirking voice in the back of her mind.

"It doesn't matter." She walked over to the bed and gathered up the comforter with a bit more force than necessary. "Let's just get this place cleaned up," she bit out through a cloud of dust. She brought the bundle of fabric down the hall to where Dori and Bifur were shaking out the blankets over one of the balconies.

When she returned, Nori gave her a pointed look, which she ignored. "_You_ look depressed," he prodded.

"You're trying to provoke me into talking about how I feel."

"Yes, I am. We've had this discussion already."

"I _know_." Holly couldn't stop the irrational anger swelling inside her chest. Where was this coming from? First she felt euphoric, and then unhappy, and now… "There is nothing wrong with me. I'm fine."

"Here. Want me to prove it?" She snatched up a pipe sitting on a small shelf. "A councilman's hand-me-down pipe given to him by his father. Left handed, married into his position, and was suffering from some sort of sickness of the lungs before he died. He was also in correspondence with a man in Dale named Barahir." Her hand shook as she held up the object. "Look at the charring on the inside of the bowl. It's only on the right because he goes to light it with his left hand. He holds it with his right so he can work with the proper hand. The quality is low—the wood is cheap and scratched in places and the finish is almost completely worn off. Obviously he could afford better, but he chose to use this one out of sentiment because it was given to him. Could be a friend or an uncle, but a father is more likely. Now, he clearly married someone to get such a high-end occupation because, once again, his father's pipe is cheap and he must have had a low-income occupation."

Now the trembling had reached her voice, but she pressed on, talking rapidly as she paced back and forth. "As for the sickness, he clearly stopped smoking for a while before his death. Why else would the pipe be lying on a shelf out of reach of his desk or his bed? Smoking would only irritate a sickness, hence the pipe's position out of reach, so he would resist the temptation. And how, you might ask, could I possibly know about the correspondence? Because I saw one of the letters on his desk and skimmed over it and that's not cheating, that's observing, I use my senses, Nori, unlike _some_ people, so you see, I _am_ fine, in fact I've never been better, so there is _nothing _to talk about. _There is nothing wrong with me._"

The pipe made a sharp noise as she slammed it back down on the shelf, breathing hard.

Nori held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Holly. Take it easy. I didn't say anything was wrong with you."

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm just—it's—it's the shock talking. I'm—Smaug, when he attacked Laketown—" She pressed her lips together. That was as close to the truth as she could get.

Understanding dawned on Nori's face. He walked over and put both hands on her shoulders. "Smaug is dead. He can't hurt anyone else, all right?"

She nodded, feeling a bit numb. All her anger had melted away. Never before had her emotions been so..._erratic_. "What do I do?" she asked quietly. "H-How do I fix this?"

Nori paused. "I don't know, Holly."

"I don't feel like myself anymore," she admitted.

"Well, I suppose that can't be helped."

Holly looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Of course you've changed. When I first met you, well...you've grown a lot since then. And I do believe you'll be able to handle this."

It was a valid point. She _had_ changed, not just from the time of the dragon's death, but from over half a year ago, when she had met the Company.

While the dragon had been lying dormant in the mountain, she had finally begun to connect with people. She had learned compassion and friendship and...more-than-friendship. She didn't really know what to call that last one. But perhaps she hadn't lost as much as she thought.

"I can...handle this," she said, measuring the words. It wouldn't be easy, but she _had_ practically come back from the dead. She could figure out...whatever this was.

Nori raised an eyebrow. "Right you are. Took you a while to come to that conclusion."

Holly grinned. "Shut up."

She could overcome this. But as for telling Bilbo the truth…

Dori opened the door and poked his head in. "Are you two staying focused?" he demanded.

Nori took his hands away and rolled his eyes. "What else would we be doing?"

The elder dwarf elected to leave with a warning look instead of answering that question. Holly turned back to Nori, deciding she didn't want to continue that line of thinking either. "He's right. We should probably get back to work." She went to go pick up the rest of the bedsheets. "And. Um. Thank you." She didn't feel better, exactly, but a bit more hopeful.

Perhaps things would turn out all right in the end.

….

Bilbo laughed in disbelief. "You're making this up."

"I am completely serious," Holly insisted, lips twitching. "He was pretending to be his own daughter's suitor so she wouldn't end up actually marrying. Wanted to save money, I presume."

They were sitting out on the front steps of Erebor, watching the moon make its slow ascent. The wind was biting and cold, but the dwarf halls were a little too dark and gloomy for Bilbo's taste, and Holly seemed to share the sentiment.

"Minas Tirith sounds like an interesting place," he said. "Does that sort of thing happen often?"

Holly made a noncommittal humming noise. "It's a big city. Easier to get away with that sort of thing." She shivered, pulling her coat tighter around her body.

"Are you cold?" Was it too forward to put an arm around her? Technically, they had already kissed, but they had agreed not to be too hasty with that sort of thing. He didn't want to make things even more awkward between them.

Holly nodded. "A bit. It can get worse up here, though. Sometimes the lake freezes over. Does it get this bad in the Shire?"

"Oh, it hardly ever gets this cold," Bilbo answered, feeling a slight pang at the thought of his home. It had been over half a year, now. His neighbors had probably forgotten him. Hopefully his silverware was still safe. Though, knowing the Sackville-Bagginses, they would have jumped at a chance to get their hands on his cutlery and anything else they could stick in their pockets.

"You miss it, don't you?"

Bilbo nodded. "But I suppose I'll be heading back soon. The quest is practically over."

"...Right." Holly shifted, a shadow passing over her face.

_You shouldn't have brought that up, _he inwardly berated himself. They hadn't discussed what would happen when it came time for him to go back. He could always bring her back with him...but what if that wasn't what she wanted? Was that even what he wanted?

A long silence wavered between them. "I suppose that had to come up sooner or later," Holly said, leaning back on her palms. "Though I'd prefer later, really."

"Speaking of 'later'..." Bilbo paused, noticing her stiffen, then pressed on. "When are you going to tell me what happened that night?"

"You know, I was thinking about that." Holly spoke to the ground, focused on rolling up her coat sleeves then unrolling them again. "And I don't think it was that important. It doesn't matter now. It wasn't really that serious of an issue—"

"Well, if it wasn't that serious, then you shouldn't have a problem telling me about it," Bilbo countered, irritated that she was trying to make excuses. Why couldn't she see that he was trying to help her?

"I _can't_," Holly snapped back. "I can't tell you about it."

"Why not?"

"Because you won't trust me any more if I tell you," she mumbled, eyebrows drawing together.

"Well, how am I supposed to trust you now if you can't tell me anything? _This_," he gestured between the two of them," is not going to work if we can't be honest with each other."

Holly was silent for a long time. This was the tipping point, Bilbo realized. Her decision would either end what they had started...or they could finally clear the air between them.

When she finally spoke, her voice came out tonelessly. "It was shortly after we sort of worked things out on the porch in Laketown. A man approached me, claiming he had something to discuss with me." She swallowed, hard. "I recognized his voice from several nightmares I've had."

"Nightmares?"

"I used to have extremely vivid nightmares that had apparently been magically influenced by him," she answered quickly as if it pained her to say the words. "Anyway. The man—Damon—said he had information about my father's death. My father...jumped into the lake when I was a child, and I was rather curious, so…" Another shuddering breath. "I chose to follow him elsewhere so we could talk in private. And—" Holly clamped her mouth shut, staring hard at the ground. After a minute she tried to speak again, but no sound left her mouth.

Bilbo wondered what could have happened that was so hard to talk about. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Holly, if this is too hard for you, we don't have to—"

"I've already started. I might as well finish this," Holly cut him off, eyes still riveted downwards. "Damon has—or had—some sort of grudge against my father. And he took it out on me with some sort of spell. Something that would help him and whoever he's working for destroy Middle Earth. It was a, um…" She took a deep breath. "A binding spell. Between my soul and...Smaug's. The dragon sees everything that I do. Or used to. I ended up giving him the information he needed to destroy every place I've been to. Th-That's why I didn't go to Erebor with the rest of you. Because he would know exactly where to find you and kill you." Her voice cracked. "I'm sorry."

"Holly…" Bilbo blinked, trying to process everything she had just told him. To say she had surprised him would be an understatement. He hadn't expected something so...big. She must have been terrified.

"The dragon mentioned you," he realized. "When I was talking with him, he said…"

_Do you really think _she _could care for you?_

Holly nodded. "I know. I saw everything he did. And I couldn't do a _damn_ thing." Her lips twisted in frustration. "I sabotaged the whole quest. One of you could have died."

Bilbo shook his head. "You're not really putting this on yourself, are you?"

"How could I not?"

"Because you didn't know about all this until recently, and you did everything in your power to make sure we all lived," he argued. "And that's all you could have done."

She turned to him, unshed tears wavering in her eyes. "Well, I can't exactly argue with that line of reasoning."

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Thank you for telling me all this."

"I'll be completely honest with you from now on." Holly leaned into his touch. "I promise."

Bilbo fully intended to keeping that promise as well. Soon he would need to tell her about the Arkenstone and Thorin.

But for now, he was content to sit with her and enjoy the calm before the storm.

**50 reviews! Thanks so much for everyone's support; I really appreciate it.**

**And the truth comes out! For those of you who have**** been waiting for Holly and Bilbo to work things out, here it is! And we also learn that Holly is not as stable as we might have thought...**

**Speaking of which, I hope you guys enjoyed the deduction in this chapter. It was partially taken from one in the original Arthur Conan Doyle stories, but the general mood was taken from BBC's episode The Hounds of Baskerville. And yes, I've been putting tons of Sherlock references in this on purpose for those of you who haven't noticed. More on that when I finish the story.**

**Next chapter will have more positive interactions between characters (wink wonk) and some Thorin POV. Sorry for not putting him in this chapter; he will have a bigger role soon. And there will also be the reappearance of a certain someone...Any guesses as to who?**


	23. The Empty Kingdom

**Chapter 23**

"_O, where do we begin?_

_The rubble or our sins?"_

—_Bastille; "Pompeii"_

Thorin sifted once again through the pile of gold, the coins and gems flowing through his fingers. The whole room still reeked of ash and the stinging scent of dragon. A strange, faint humming seemed to reverberate throughout the room. Yet he felt himself relaxing, the chiming of the treasure calming his frayed nerves.

Smaug was dead. They had saved Erebor. That thought alone should have relieved him of his anxiety...he should feel happy, even. But as he listened closely...

They were laughing at him. Sharp teeth and glinting eyes peered from the shadows...and they _laughed_.

_You have no right, no right to enter that mountain!_

Thorin turned his back on the mocking chatter. He had spent years doing so after the Battle of Azanulbizar, and such an action had become habit by this point. But the laughter did not stop. For a moment, he felt once again like the impoverished, nameless blacksmith in Ered Luin.

Was he not the rightful king of Erebor? They did not understand. He had his kingdom, his crown, his gold. Once he found the Arkenstone, he would restore the mountain to its rightful glory.

_And who are you, to declare yourself king? _came the contemptuous reply.

"Thorin...Oakenshield." But now the name tasted like dirt on his tongue. How many times had that title been spat in contempt of the dishonored dwarf prince in command of a failing people?

Thorin shook his head, eyes roving over the gold for the hundredth time that day. The movement brought calm to him once more. He had restored his honor by undertaking this noble quest to save his people. He would use the treasure to restore Erebor to its full glory. Finally, he was king, and he could make this right.

The laughter continued.

_I myself suspect a more prosaic method: attempted burglary, or something of that ilk._

Anger sizzled under his skin. This treasure belonged to _him_. It always had. He had claim over every precious gem, every gold coin. It was his birthright. His destiny. And he could not let the people of Laketown or the elves of Mirkwood take that away from him.

Reclaiming his home had only made everything that much clearer. Everyone who had wronged him deserved _nothing_. They had no claim over his gold, though he had no doubt they would come flocking to his doorstep in time, sniveling for a share of _his_ treasure. He could not yield to them.

_Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall._

He had risen up beyond everyone's expectations. Everyone who had tried to hold him back had been _wrong_. He had succeeded. His own determination and will had driven him, and—

_The blind ambition of a mountain-king so driven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!_

Thorin tried to clear his pounding head, the light clinking of the gold escalating into a crashing roar. He needed to find the Arkenstone. Then they would recognize his right to rule, and all doubts would be dispelled.

With this thought in mind, Thorin made his way further into the treasure hoard, leaving the flickering light of the torches behind as he was swallowed by shadow.

….

"Ow." Holly let out a curse and brought her pricked thumb to her mouth, ignoring Dori's disapproving look. She gestured to her work with her other hand. "How's this?"

The dwarf inspected her progress. "Don't make the stitches so far apart."

"All right." Holly moved to correct her mistake. Dori had taken it upon himself to teach her how to mend clothing after discovering that she didn't know how. Holly didn't see the need, but no one had offered to teach her before, so she'd accepted. She held up the tear in her coat that she was practicing on. "Like this?"

"Yes, that's much better," Dori praised with a nod.

Holly smiled to herself. She was still a bit drained from yesterday's events, though getting some rest had helped her compose herself. She still felt occasional outbursts of sadness or frustration, but things like this helped cheer her up. It really had been better not to avoid the discussion she'd had with Bilbo. Not that she would admit that out loud.

Down the hall, she could hear Fili and Kili sparring, the clash of their weapons echoing off the stone walls. Kili's leg had healed up nicely, and his limp was almost gone. Holly wondered if he would be able to fight in the battle, whenever that happened.

She was concerned for all of them. Fifteen against an army or two was a death sentence. Holly didn't even count herself since she could barely lift a sword. Even if they barricaded themselves inside the mountain, starvation would drive them out eventually. And that was assuming assassins didn't get to them first.

"What are we going to do if someone attacks Erebor?" she asked. "Say Thranduil shows up with an army and demands tribute, or wants compensation because we broke out of his dungeon. What then?"

"Well I'd imagine we'd have to take some sort of diplomatic action," Dori answered. "Though I doubt those pig-headed elves would listen to anything we'd have to say."

Holly suppressed a smile. The dwarves' grudge against elves amused her, though she would never tell them that. The whole thing was rather illogical—Thorin seemed to be the only one with a personal grievance against an elf. Though after the events at Laketown, Kili sometimes brought up the 'not all elves' argument. Everyone countered this with a rather vehement 'yes, all elves' and the topic would be dropped soon after.

"What if goblins or orcs arrive with an army? We can't exactly negotiate with them, or fight them for that matter."

"We'll figure something out," Dori assured her. "Thorin will know what to do...hopefully."

Holly furrowed her eyebrows at his tone. "What do you mean? Is Thorin all right?" Come to think of it, she hadn't seen him at all since coming to Erebor.

"He's...a bit preoccupied. With finding the Arkenstone."

_I am almost tempted to let you take it, if only to see Oakenshield suffer. Watch it destroy him, watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad…_

Holly let the sewing fall into her lap as dread slid into the pit of her stomach. Thorin had to be suffering from the dragon sickness. She didn't know exactly what the illness entailed, but there had to a reason people called it _dragon_ sickness. And she'd seen the inner workings of a dragon's mind. Thorin was strong-willed and noble, but even those qualities could be misdirected and twisted into something worse. What if he hurt himself, or someone else?

Dori put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, lass. I'm sure—"

"Will you _stop_ calling me lass?" Holly snapped, then froze. "Sorry. I didn't—" Shame burned on her cheeks. She considered walking out of the room, but that wouldn't solve anything. "That wasn't directed at you. Sometimes I get irrationally angry but I'm not...going crazy or anything." _I hope._ "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," Dori said, looking mildly surprised at this turn of events. "And I'll stop calling you lass if you want."

"Thank you." She nodded, the emotional high from her anger fizzling out. She would need to get that under control, hopefully before she did anything she regretted.

…

Little by little, life was coming back to Erebor, Holly observed as she crossed one of its stone walkways. She made sure to stay as far away from the edge as possible. The kingdom had a lot of stairways and paths that crossed over deep chasms or went above other walkways, which was impractical. One wrong step could send a person to their death, and this was supposed to be a _kingdom_, not the wilds with treacherous cliffs and such.

But everything was a little less dusty and they'd lit a multitude of braziers to ward off the chill and the darkness. Perhaps they would be able to fill this place with life again.

"Holly!"

She turned and waited for Bilbo to catch up to her. "I was actually looking for you just now, I wanted to—"

"I need to talk to you about—" He began speaking at the same time, then stopped and laughed. "Sorry. You first."

"All right." Holly shoved her hands in her pockets, nerves fluttering in her stomach. "Um. While I was in Laketown, I got this for you." She withdrew a small cloth bag from one of her pockets. She'd been confused and upset at the time, and had merely bought it out of impulse. "I've been trying to find the right time to give it to you. So. Here." She thrust the bag in his direction, cheeks burning. Gift giving had never been her strong point.

Bilbo accepted the bag and opened it. "Oh, Holly, you didn't have to…"

"Well, I _did_ promise to get you a new set of buttons. Back in the Misty Mountains. I'm not entirely sure you were around when I promised, but I did promise, and I wasn't about to go back on that," she rambled.

"I thought you said you only remember things that are important," Bilbo teased.

"I did." Holly crossed her arms, half-defensive."It's...okay, right?"

"More than okay." He smiled up at her. "Thank you. You should have told me, and I would have gotten you something."

She shook her head. "There's nothing I want that I don't already have." Which sounded a bit sappy, but she meant it.

Bilbo cocked his head, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Really? Are you sure?"

Holly shrugged, though her heart skipped a beat. "If there is, I can't think of it at the moment."

"What if I were to…" He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

Oh.

"Uhh," came her intelligent reply. "Yes." She had no idea what she was saying yes to. What had they been talking about? She shook her head to clear it. "You, uh, wanted to talk to me about something?"

Bilbo's smile wavered. "Right. Yeah. It's about Thorin."

"Oh." _Focus, Holly._ "I heard about...what's happening."

Bilbo nodded. He obviously cared a great deal about the dwarf. Even in the beginning of their journey, after Thorin had dismissed him as practically worthless, Bilbo hadn't hesitated to risk his life to save Thorin's.

"He's sick," Bilbo said, concern evident in his voice. "The others don't seem to understand. It's not a physical sickness, but…"

Holly nodded. "It doesn't have to be physical to be serious."

"How do we help him?"

Holly knew well enough how the mind worked, but actually fixing it was a different matter. But Bilbo needed her help, as did Thorin. She had to do what she could. "How has he been acting lately?"

"He's become obsessed with finding the Arkenstone—he hardly focuses on anything else. I only just got him to go to sleep in one of the rooms instead of on the floor."

"Then we've just got to find the Arkenstone, right? Shouldn't be that hard, since we know where to look," she suggested, but Bilbo shook his head.

"I talked to Balin, and he said the Arkenstone would only make things worse."

"Then we should find it anyway, before he does. Someone will stumble across it eventually," Holly insisted.

"Actually…" Bilbo paused and bit his lip. "I've already found it."

"What? When?"

"When I first went into the treasure hall. I only just managed to slip away after I grabbed it."

Holly thought back to that night. Smaug had been about to kill him, but then he'd turned invisible (that was another matter she would have to ask him about). That must have been when he'd taken it.

Bilbo reached into one of the inner pockets of the coat he had borrowed in Laketown and withdrew a stone about the size of his fist. Holly felt her breath catch in her throat. The Arkenstone glimmered tantalizingly, a swirl of starlight on the ripples of a lake. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

_Snap out of it,_ she berated herself. It was just a useless rock. There was no reason for her to become so enchanted by a mere stone.

"I was going to give it to Thorin," Bilbo continued. He slipped the object back into his pocket. "But something seemed...off when he asked me about it. And I suppose I was right."

"Then we'll have to come up with another solution," Holly concluded, shaking all thoughts of the dragon from her mind. The strange pulsing spot on her chest gave an uncomfortable twinge. "Later on I'll study his actions for myself, and see what I can draw from that."

Bilbo nodded, giving her a grateful smile. "All right."

"All right." She sighed and lowered her gaze, fidgeting with her coat sleeves.

"Something's bothering you."

Holly took a deep breath. _Right. Talking about things._ "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier? You've had plenty of opportunities to." She'd even asked him about it the previous day. "I thought we were going to be honest with each other." As soon as the words left her mouth, they sounded accusing and suspicious. Bilbo had no reason to keep things from her. He had probably just forgotten to tell her. "Sorry. It's...not that big of a problem." She didn't want to create a rift between them, especially after they had gone through such lengths get closer to one another.

"No, no, I should apologize," he said. "I was going to tell you sooner, but…" His eyes drifted off to the side, filled with a quiet determination and a bit of fear. "Things have been...rough. Thorin already suspects that someone is withholding the Arkenstone. And I hate having to lie to him, having to watch my back everywhere I go…" He trailed off, looking more worn and troubled than she had ever seen him.

A surge of concern swept through her chest, and she clasped one of his hands in both of hers. "I'm sorry. That must be really difficult. And possibly conducive to paranoia." No, that wasn't the right thing to say. She really needed to work on this 'comforting' thing. "But you're...not alone in this," she continued. "Whatever you need, I'll be here. And...um...sorry, that's all I've got. I'm not too good at this." Holly took her hands away, embarrassed. At least that got a smile out of him. "We'll figure this out," Holly tried again.

"I hope so." Bilbo sighed, some of the tension in his shoulders seeming to disappear.

"We will," she assured him. They'd come so far already, and at the moment, she felt a bit unstoppable.

He was giving her that small smile again, the same one he had worn that night in Laketown outside the Town Hall.

Holly felt a strange warmth pooling in her stomach as she returned the gesture. Never in her life had she predicted that she would fall so hard for someone. Yet here she was, ridiculously absorbed in a benign smile and the gentlest blue eyes she had ever known. This was likely the most unexpected thing that had happened in her life.

_Though becoming so damned sentimental is a close second,_ she mused, her gaze flickering to his lips. Her heart was racing, though she hadn't exerted herself enough to cause such a reaction. Perhaps it was their proximity, seeing as she had mere inches required to close the gap between—

The sound of heavy footsteps caused her to withdraw. Holly clasped her hands behind her back as Dwalin rounded the corner. Even his footsteps sounded gruff. The dwarf raised an eyebrow upon seeing the two of them.

"Am I interrupting something, or—?"

"Um, no, we were just—"

"Not at all. In fact, we…"

Holly and Bilbo shared an awkward, half-guilty glance before falling silent.

"Thorin needs us all at the front gate," Dwalin said, apparently electing not to continue his investigation. He turned to go without another word.

Holly couldn't help but notice the stiffness in the dwarf's actions. That is, more stiffness than usual. She should have expected as much. Dwalin was one of Thorin's closest friends. Watching him deteriorate into madness...she couldn't imagine how he must feel.

She _had_ to find some way to fix this.

"Come on. Let's go see what he wants," she sighed, making to follow Dwalin.

"Hold on a moment." Bilbo grasped her arm, making her stop and turn.

She could feel her cheeks reddening. "What is it?" was what she meant to say, but it became rather impossible to get any words out as his lips pressed against hers.

It was a brief kiss, more so than what had happened at the river, yet it left her feeling twice as euphoric. And their first kiss hadn't left her struggling to remember how to form words in her native language. Elvish she could remember quite well, though.

_Oh, I'm in far too deep,_ was the first complete thought she could assemble.

Not that she minded, Holly mused as she leaned in for another kiss.

…..

"Are you sure this is going to hold?"

Holly crossed her arms, scrutinizing the makeshift wall constructed from pieces of rubble. Once Thorin had caught word that Mirkwood elves had joined the survivors from Laketown in Dale, he'd decided to repair the gap in the wall at once (Holly had briefly considered calling it Smaug's Hole, then decided that was _not_ a good name at all).

Speaking of Thorin, she'd been studying him closely ever since they'd started construction. He seemed more aggressive and tense than before, and strangely distracted. Not to mention he was constructing a wall in the middle of the night. Holly could definitely see how Bilbo had sensed that things were 'off' with the dwarf.

Helping him would take a lot more than simply talking about his feelings.

"You underestimate the skill of dwarves when it comes to masonry," Nori said, bringing her back to the present. "Nearly all dwarves know how to build something as basic as a wall."

"Ah, yes. Walls: the most basic of structures," Holly replied with a smirk. But the dwarves had done a decent job so far, interlocking the stone slabs so that there was little space in between.

"It's really not that hard," Nori continued, passing another brick up to Bifur, who was standing on top of the structure. "And it doesn't hurt that we all know a few tricks for this sort of thing."

"What sort of tricks?" Holly asked, curious in spite of herself.

"We've built it very carefully, in case there's an emergency. If we pull out one stone, the whole thing will come down," Nori answered.

Holly frowned, scanning the wall to see if she could find such a stone. "That's not a very good trick. How would that be beneficial to…" She noticed the dwarf was grinning at her. "Oh, _stop_."

"You believed me there for a second!" Nori gloated, making her scowl.

Before she could retort, a loud clatter sounded, making everyone jump. Kili had dropped the wheelbarrow he'd been carrying and was glaring at Thorin. "The people of Laketown have nothing!" he protested. "We should be offering them help, not barricading ourselves in here! They came to us in need—they have lost _everything_."

Thorin stared back, his eyes hard. "Do not tell me what they have lost. I know well enough of hardship." He turned towards Dale, his normally stoic tone twisting into something less...stable. "Those who have lived through dragon fire should rejoice! They have much to be grateful for."

_Oh, he really has lost it_.

"Grateful?" Bofur spoke up. "Is that what you call it? Those people are starving. That was Holly's hometown that was burned to the ground."

"Oh, please don't bring me into this—"

"What would you do if she was out there with them?" Bofur pressed.

A long silence echoed through the room, and Holly cast a wary glance at Thorin. They had never gotten along, though that was most likely due to Smaug's resentment towards the dwarf. The dragon's thoughts and feelings had influenced her own, to a certain extent.

But not anymore. And now would be an ideal time to come to bridge that gap with Thorin, to better help him overcome the dragon sickness. Holly stepped forward and opened her mouth, but Thorin spoke first.

"This mountain was hard-won. I will not see it taken again by those who seek its riches."

She let out a huff. "You didn't even answer the question—"

Holly's irritated protest was drowned out by several others. She rubbed her temples as a full-blown argument escalated in the room.

Bilbo caught her eye from across the hall and gave her a look that seemed to say, _you should probably get them to stop arguing._

She frowned back. _Me?_

He raised his eyebrows. _You've done it before._

Right. Back in Mirkwood, when she'd yelled and insulted all of them.

"Um." Holly turned back to the dwarves, unsure how she was supposed to politely get them to shut up. In such a large room, she wouldn't be able to speak up very effectively.

Thankfully, Thorin chose that moment to call for order, and his much more powerful voice managed to quiet them down.

The dwarf glared at all of them, his gaze scalding. "Would you question the decisions of your king?" he demanded. "Would you so easily give up what we have worked for to the very people who sought to imprison us?"

"He's right," Holly spoke up, ignoring the incredulous stares she received. "We have enough problems of our own to worry about without trying to aid an entire town. If nothing else, the people of Laketown know how to scrape by. They'll manage without our help."

"We have much work to do. I want this fortress safe by morning," Thorin continued without acknowledging her contribution. The dwarves went back to work in grudging silence. Holly made a face at Thorin's back as he turned to lift more stone. _You're welcome._

Bilbo didn't seem too grateful either as he went to stand by her side. "I didn't expect you to agree with him."

"Oh, I don't. We'll need to make an alliance with Dale eventually. But Thorin seems paranoid enough without his friends arguing with him about everything. He'll be easier to manage if he thinks he's in charge. He doesn't really need to be around for any real work to get done."

"You mean to go work things out behind his back."

Holly nodded. "It'll take a bit of the pressure off. Maybe that will help him."

Bilbo sighed, looking unconvinced. "I don't know. It seems a bit...manipulative."

"Well, you _asked_ for a solution, and I'm giving you one—"

"I know, I know." He held up his hands to placate her. "And we'll try it out. But if things start going wrong, we're changing tactics."

"All right. And I'm not trying to be manipulative." His comment had stung more than she cared to admit. "I just want to help him."

"Of course. I didn't mean to imply anything like that." Bilbo took her hand and squeezed it. "You're a good person, Holly."

"All right." She scratched the back of her neck, trying to dislodge the prickling feeling that had settled there. "You know, I'm going to try the library. See if I can find anything about dragon sickness there."

He released her hand, fingers trailing lightly over her skin. "Don't stay down there too long."

"I won't." Holly would make sure to come back this time. Hopefully there weren't any dark mages waiting down in the library.

…..

_A small, dark room. Angry voices. Two figures arguing could be seen through the slit between the door and its frame._

"_You killed him."_

"_It was self defense. I didn't have a choice."_

"_I'll make you pay for what you've done."_

_A loud thump. "You would threaten me in my own home?"_

_The slit grew wider as she pushed the door open with one hand, the other rubbing sleep out of her eyes._

"_Da? What's going on?"_

"_Is that your daughter?"_

"_Don't you dare—"_

"Holly? Holly, wake up."

Someone was shaking her shoulder. She sat up, the pages of the book in front of her rustling as they became unstuck from her face. "Mm? What? I'm up."

"Well, you are now," Bilbo said, a smile in his voice.

"What time is it?" she yawned. Keeping track of time while living inside a mountain was nearly impossible.

"It's late. You should get some rest."

Holly thought about that for a moment. "You woke me up to tell me to get some sleep?"

"In an actual bed," he elaborated as Holly stood up and stretched. She sighed at the loud popping noises the motion elicited. "Trust me, your back will thank me later."

"Or I could just thank you now," she returned, giving him a kiss.

"Oh. Or that." He was _blushing_.

They stood in silence for a moment, smiling at each other. This was nice, Holly thought. A bit strange, but nice.

Bilbo cleared his throat. "So, did you find anything?"

Books. Library. Right. "No," she sighed, turning back to the array of books on the desk. "Most of these aren't even in Westron. They're written in Khuzdul, I presume, but I've never had the chance to learn the language." She'd been trying to piece together words and phrases herself when she'd fallen asleep.

"Why don't you ask one of the dwarves to teach you?"

She frowned. "Dwarves are really secretive about their culture, especially their language. I'm not sure if they would…"

"You've proven yourself to be trustworthy already. And it wouldn't hurt to ask," Bilbo reasoned.

"Mm. I suppose you're right." She yawned again, bringing one hand up to cover her mouth.

Bilbo smiled. "Come on. We should get some rest."

"I'll be along shortly," Holly answered, piling up the books scattered across the desk. "I just have to put these away."

"Oh. Um. All right." After a moment, she could hear his receding footsteps. It took her a few minutes to realize that she'd all but dismissed him, and he'd probably wanted to walk back with her.

Eru, she could be such an idiot at times.

And once she had finished and began heading back to the rooms, she wished she had asked him to wait. Erebor was eerily silent and the flickering braziers everywhere cast shadows that kept her on edge.

Holly winced. The pulsing feeling in her chest had grown uncomfortably hot. Perhaps she should ask Oin about it.

A sudden scraping noise made her start. She could almost imagine Smaug slithering through the halls.

_The dragon is dead,_ Holly reminded herself. _He won't be bothering anyone ever again._

The scraping sound came again—the harsh noise of steel on stone. And it was getting closer, accompanied by heavy footsteps. Holly froze as a rumbling voice echoed through the hall.

"Oh, don't tell me you really thought I was gone."

Slowly, she turned, and came face to face with the sneering countenance of a certain golden-eyed dragon.

"Did you miss me?"

**did you miss me? did you miss me? did you miss me? did you miss me? did you miss me?**

**So a lot of events occurred in this chapter! Thorin's losing it, we got some Holly/Bilbo fluff, and now Smaug is back! I'm a bit surprised no one guessed that. But to the reviewers who did bother to guess, Damon and Thrandy will both be returning in future chapters!**

**Next chapter will delve deeper into madness (figurative and literal) and more events will occur.**

**Leave a comment telling me what you think; it helps me out a lot!**


	24. Gold Blaze

**Chapter 24**

"_Miserable he may be, poor he is not." —Jane Austen; __Pride and Prejudice_

"No." Holly backed away, heart pounding. "No. You're not real."

"How very astute of you." Smaug leered, lifting his head so that he towered above her. She noted that despite his height, he was much smaller than his original size, which supported her previous observation. "No matter, though. My time will come."

Holly squeezed her eyes shut. _I'm seeing things._ _This is simply a combination of sleep deprivation and stress. Once I open my eyes he will be gone. I am not. Going. Insane._

"Insanity? An inevitable result, I assure you. The only reason you've lasted so far is my influence on your mind. I'll enjoy seeing how long it takes for you to _break_," the dragon mused.

"Get out of my head," she demanded, but it came out more like a plea. "You're _dead_. Leave me alone."

"Dead? Not quite." Smaug ran his claws along the stone floor. The scraping noise made her wince. "'One soul cannot live without the other'—is that not what the dark mage said?"

"No, no, _no_." Holly gripped the sides of her head, fingernails digging into her scalp. "_I saw you die_."

"Mmm...don't be so _dull_," the dragon scoffed. "You couldn't have clawed your way from the brink of death if I hadn't let you."

"_No_," Holly gasped out again, panic igniting in her veins. There were only two possible explanations for what was happening to her—either Smaug was alive, or she was going insane. And the gravity of either scenario seemed to be crushing her innards, twisting her gut and filling it with liquid dread. "Stop it."

"Holly?"

The new voice made her start, and she turned around in time to see Dori rounding the corner.

"Who are you talking to?"  
"I was—" Holly turned back around. Smaug was gone. She turned to face Dori, heart beating madly. "I...got lost. And then I started hearing whispers, or something... Do you think this place is haunted? I think it may be haunted," she rambled. Dori was rather superstitious, so hopefully he would believe the half-truth.

The dwarf was still giving her a suspicious frown, but he said nothing more on the topic. "It's nearly past midnight. Let's get you on to bed."

Holly nodded numbly and began walking with him back to the rooms.

"And, ah, if there are any ghosts…" Dori continued after a few moments of silence, "Well...I'm sure we'll be fine." He placed a reassuring hand on her back. Holly took a small amount of comfort in the gesture, despite the ambiguity of his reassurance. She could always count on Dori to at least provide that.

_I'm sure he would be less than comforting if he knew what sort of liars were crawling about in this mountain, _an all-too-familiar voice hissed from the shadows. _I can think of one, maybe two…_

Holly had to clamp her mouth shut to avoid lashing out at the voice. She could feel her hands shaking and shoved them in her pockets. They couldn't reach the hallway where the bedrooms were fast enough.

"You sleep as long as you need, and make sure to eat something when you wake up," Dori instructed as she pushed open the door.

"I will, da," Holly muttered absently as one trembling hand nearly slammed the door.

She stood in the dark for a moment, head spinning. There was something else in the room with her. Or maybe she _was_ going insane. The corners of the room stayed silent, but the pulsing spot in her chest still maintained its burning heat.

Holly didn't have the energy to address that at the moment, and it was all she could do to simply stumble over to the bed and lie down.

Eventually the pounding of her heart and the sensation of wetness on her face receded into oblivion as she slipped into a fearful, dreamless sleep.

…

Holly awoke to a buzzing silence. She was out of bed in an instant and stepped into the corridor, energy humming in her veins. Strangely, no one else was up yet—she could hear snoring coming from behind several doors, all of which were closed.

Why were they all sleeping in? There was so much to be _done_.

But Holly hardly had the patience to wait for them, so she set off down the hall by herself.

Hopefully the fortifications to the wall were done by this point—that would be absolutely necessary in keeping them safe. And alliances would have to be made with the people in Dale...no doubt they would be unhappy about having a dragon set loose on them, but there was enough gold in the mountain to win them over. That is, if Thorin was willing to part with any of it.

And as for the elves...persuading them would be more difficult.

Holly stopped walking, realizing where she was. Piles of gold stretched on as far as she could see, catching the light from the braziers and throwing it back in brilliant waves. It was rather fascinating to watch the red-orange light play off the treasure.

A small movement drew her attention further down the hall. She caught a glimpse of dark hair before it disappeared behind a mound of gold.

As if she were moving in a dream, Holly made her way down into the treasure hall, nearly losing her balance several times as the coins and jewels slid under her feet. After more of a struggle than she'd expected, she found Thorin sifting through the treasure. He must have heard her approach, but made no move to acknowledge her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. Her voice sounded a bit strange, as though she were listening to herself underwater. And her face felt a bit...numb.

Thorin fixed her with a cool stare in return. "I could ask the same of you."

Holly shrugged. "I suppose you could." She nudged a few of the coins with one foot, watching them slide and glint. "Where are the others? They should be awake already."

"I do not know," Thorin answered, his attention back on the gold.

Holly hesitated a moment, then picked up one of the coins. Each bore the visage of a dwarf wearing a crown. "Who's this? Your grandfather?"

"Yes. He was the one to find the Arkenstone, originally."

So he was still after that rock… "Hmm." She held up the coin and compared it to Thorin's face, then tossed it back into the pile. "As in, he dug it out of the earth himself, or he was ruling at the time?"

"He was ruling at the time," Thorin answered. "But he took it as a sign of his divine right to rule." He turned, giving her a significant look. Holly felt something unpleasant twist in her gut. "That is why I must find it." He stepped closer. "Help me find it."

"Me?"

"You could. Out of all of us, you are the sharpest—"

"I eliminate the impossible, and whatever is left has to be true," she corrected him. "I'm not sure if that applies to finding _one stone_ in _square miles_ of treasure." But giving Thorin at least a bit of hope that he could find Arkenstone might throw off any suspicion that would endanger Bilbo. Perhaps she could even take this chance to convince him that he didn't need the Arkenstone. "Though...it wouldn't hurt to try. Do you have an approximate location of where it was seen last?"

Thorin's lips moved in what could be considered an approximation of a smile. "This way."

…..

Gold really was irritating to walk on, Holly decided. It had been many hours since she had woken and several logical-but-ultimately-unhelpful deductions had led the two of them in circles across the treasure.

She was stalling, really. Confronting Thorin about the Arkenstone was less than appealing because she didn't know how unstable he was. And she didn't want to find out.

The burning sensation in her chest hadn't lessened in intensity at all. But every time Holly thought about what had happened the previous night, a sharp pain in her head forced her to turn her attention elsewhere.

"This is of no use," Thorin said eventually. "The Arkenstone must not be in here."

Holly gave a clipped laugh. "What are you talking about? Where else would it be?"

The dwarf turned to her with the same intense, meaningful stare. "Perhaps it has already been found."

She let out a stuttering, exasperated sigh. "If it had already been found, you would have it. We're all trying our best to help, Thorin. I don't see why you need it so badly, anyway."

Thorin glared. "It is my _birthright_."

"Shouldn't we be focusing on making an alliance with Dale?" Holly continued. "We'll be needing their help in the future."

A small metallic noise caused both of them to turn. Holly smiled when she saw Bilbo climbing up to them, struggling a bit over the slippery coins.

"You two are up early," the hobbit commented, smiling at her in return as he came to stand beside them.

"Not really," Holly said. "We've been up for hours. You've all been sleeping rather late."

Bilbo's smile turned into a confused frown. "But the sun's just risen. It's only seven or eight in the morning."

"No, seven or eight was five hours...ago...oh. Huh." Holly blinked. She hadn't bothered to check what time it was when she'd woke.

Bilbo stared, eyes widening in disbelief. "You've both been awake this whole time?"

Holly lowered her gaze and shuffled her feet, feeling irrationally guilty.

Thorin didn't even blink, striding forward to leave the hall. "There is still much to be done. We will need to arm ourselves, and set up defenses on the wall. I cannot yield to them." He had lowered his head, and seemed to be speaking to himself.

"Arm ourselves for what, exactly…?" Bilbo asked, but the dwarf ignored him. "_Thorin_."

Something in his tone made Thorin pause for a moment. He turned back around, his gaze focused and attentive, as if he truly wanted to hear what Bilbo had to say.

The hobbit faltered for a moment, apparently not expecting such a reaction. "Look, I—"

"Thorin!" A new voice sounded from further down the hall, and Bombur came up towards them, climbing the gold mound with difficulty. "That Bard fellow from Laketown is at the wall," the dwarf said once he had caught his breath. "He said he wants to speak to you."

"Call everyone to the gate," Thorin commanded, doubling his pace through the treasure. "And tell Kili to grab his bow."

Bilbo stared after Thorin's retreating figure, worry evident in his eyes. Holly glanced at the dwarf, then back at Bilbo. For a moment, Thorin had almost looked like his old self, as though Bilbo's voice had brought him back to reality. _Interesting…_

Bilbo turned and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"What?"

"You're making that face you do when you're thinking."

"Oh, I'm always thinking," Holly said, wondering what sort of face she made when she was thinking. "I believe you may be on to something."

"Oh?"

"I'll tell you when I have more information. But I think we may be able to fix this."

Bilbo visibly brightened. "With Thorin?"

Holly nodded, glad that she had been able to cheer him up. "Possibly." She grabbed his hand. "Come on, let's go see what Bard wants."

…

Thorin was pleased to find that the wall had been finished overnight. It felt sturdy under his feet as he stood on top of it, gazing over the makeshift battlements at a certain bargeman.

His satisfaction was dulled by rage, however. He had known the people of Laketown would seek out his fortune. And the fact that they had sent the traitor Bard—the man who had turned on him and nearly had him imprisoned in the first place—incensed him further.

"Hail Thorin, son of Thrain. We are glad to find you alive beyond hope," Bard called up from his position at the base of the wall.

_Beyond all hope... _So the men of Laketown had been expecting the demise of his Company. They had all but sent them to their deaths without so much as batting an eye, all on the off chance that Erebor's wealth would became open to their coffers once more.

And now, having armed themselves and struck an alliance with the Mirkwood elves, the men of Dale had come to take his treasure, by coercion or other means.

Thorin glared down at Bard. "Why do you come to the gates of the King under the Mountain armed for war?"

"Why does the King under the Mountain fence himself in like a robber in his hole?" Bard retorted.

"Perhaps it is because I am expecting to be robbed," Thorin spat. He was no thief. The gold belonged to him, and him alone.

"My lord, we have not come to rob you, but to seek fair settlement. Will you not speak with me?"

_Fair settlement... _He doubted it.

But simply talking with the man would not be of any detriment to him. It was what any king would do.

Thorin climbed down the wall to a long, narrow gap near the base, letting his voice carry through so Bard knew where he was.

"I am listening."

A deep breath echoed from the other end. "On behalf of the people of Laketown, I ask that you honor your pledge. A share of the treasure, so that they may rebuild their lives."

"I will not treat with any man while an armed host lies at my door," Thorin refuted. It irked him that they begged him for a means of livelihood with a sword pointed at his throat.

"That armed host will attack this mountain if we do not come to terms," Bard countered.

"Your threats do not sway me."

"And what of your conscience?"

Thorin locked eyes with the man. His gaze was pleading, glinting with a desperation that seemed all too familiar. He had seen it before in the eyes of his own kin, when they had been cast out in the wilds after the attack on Erebor. Perhaps Bard truly meant to save his people.

"Does it not tell you that our cause is just?" the man continued. "My people offered you help and in return you brought upon them only _ruin and death_."

Something serpentine and angry writhed in the pit of his stomach. "When did the men of Laketown come to our aid but for the promise of rich reward?" he demanded.

"A bargain was struck!" Bard protested.

"A bargain?" Thorin spat, the disbelief in his voice clouded with rage. "What choice did we have but to barter our birthright for blankets and food? To ransom our future in exchange for our freedom? You call that a fair trade? Tell me, Bard the dragon-slayer, why should I honor such terms?"

"Because you gave us your word," Bard answered. "Does that mean nothing?"

Thorin moved away from the gap, leaning his back against the wall. What did his word mean to a group of thieves? He lifted his gaze. The rest of the Company stood in a group before him, watching the exchange.

"Begone!" he shouted, turning back to the wall. "Ere our arrows fly!"

He heard the angry scuff of the man's fist on the stone wall, and then he was gone.

Thorin turned back to the Company, a small measure of grim satisfaction settling in his chest, only to have Bilbo march up to him, evidently frustrated.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "You cannot go to war."

Of course Bilbo would not know about such matters, coming from such a sheltered life. "This does not concern you," Thorin dismissed him.

"Excuse me, but just in case you haven't noticed, there is an army of elves out there, not to mention several hundred angry fishermen. We are, in fact, outnumbered."

"Not for much longer."

Bilbo narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It means, Master Baggins…" Thorin stepped closer to the hobbit, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You should never underestimate dwarves." He turned to the rest of the Company. "We have reclaimed Erebor. Now we defend it."

…

"What does he think he's doing? We can't possibly win this. How does he not see that?"

"Bilbo," Holly sighed. They were standing on the wall in front of Erebor, and he had been ranting about Thorin for a good five minutes or so, pacing back and forth.

"How can think this is a good idea?"

"Listen." She stepped in front of him and put her hands on his shoulders, halting his movements. "Thorin may be a bit...unstable, but he's not stupid. He wouldn't make a threat like that unless it had some sort of weight. Most likely he's called for reinforcements from somewhere else. Or they have some sort of secret weapon that can raze a city. Probably the former, though." She shook her head, refocusing her train of thought. "The point is, you shouldn't worry about that. None of us are going down without a fight."

Bilbo sighed. "You're right. I suppose I'm just letting off steam…" He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging. "It seems like Thorin's losing a bit more of himself every day."

Holly's voice caught in her throat. Seeing Thorin like this had to be tearing him apart. And it was really for Bilbo's benefit that she was trying to find a solution. It wasn't that she didn't care about Thorin, but what was really driving her to help him recover was her concern for the hobbit.

Even as she came to terms with this, Holly felt a bit selfish for feeling that way. And she couldn't help but wonder if something else was causing her lack of concern for Thorin…

_No_. Smaug was dead. He had no sway over her thoughts any more.

"I could try negotiating with Bard," Holly suggested, releasing Bilbo's shoulders and shoving all thoughts of the dragon out of her mind. "I could probably get him to stand down and make peace with us." She looked out over the plains towards Dale. Bard was rather predictable, and it would be easy to convince him...to manipulate him. The thought made her skin crawl. She didn't want to be manipulative. That wasn't something she would do...right?

"Are you sure Thorin would let you do something like that?" Bilbo asked.

"I'll convince him," Holly answered. "In fact, I'll just talk to him now. Maybe I can visit Dale today—it's rather early anyway." She began walking, head spinning with ideas.

"Are you sure you don't want to get some rest first?" Bilbo fell into stride next to her. "You look like you've gotten maybe an hour of sleep."

"I'm fine," Holly dismissed him. "You remember that night when the dwarves got kidnapped by trolls, and then we had to run all the way to Rivendell?"

Bilbo let out a small laugh. "I do. That already seems like such a long time ago…"

"Whatever. The point is, I didn't sleep for about thirty six hours during those couple of days. And I felt fine. My vision started doing funny things after a while, but I handled it. Obviously."

"I don't think your vision doing funny things counts as handling—"

"I'm not a child!" Holly snapped. "I can take care of myself!"

Bilbo seemed momentarily taken aback with her change of tone, then scowled and began walking in the other direction. "Fine. Eru knows I don't need to be looking after two crazy people at the same time."

"You think I'm crazy?" Holly demanded, something sharp wedging itself inside her chest as she stopped walking.

Bilbo sighed turned back to her. "Look, I didn't mean—"

"No, you're right," Holly bit out, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. "I am going insane."

Bilbo blinked. "What?"

"I. Am. Going. _Insane_," Holly forced out.

"...What makes you say that?" Bilbo was looking at her as one would at a wounded animal.

Holly swallowed hard, forcing herself to regain control. She couldn't ignore the red burn of embarrassment that she'd lost her composure so easily. "Last night, I started seeing things. Dead...things. I saw Smaug and he claimed that he wasn't quite dead yet and now I'm beginning to think that he's not entirely out of my head and he's going to come back and hurt someone and I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to do anything about it and Damon is still out there and quite capable of hurting someone as well. I don't even feel like the same person anymore and I sometimes wonder if I was even a person to begin with." It took several attempts for her to draw in a full breath. "I think that about covers it."

"Holly…" Bilbo moved over to her, speaking quietly. For a moment he seemed to be searching for something to say, before finally settling on, "I don't know. I don't know how to fix this."

And that was the problem, Holly realized. Bilbo was right—he couldn't possibly juggle hers and Thorin's mental problems at the same time. And if she truly cared about him, she would need to take matters into her own hands.

"I won't ask you to," she answered in a softer voice. "I...I'll try to take better care of myself from now on. You focus on Thorin. He needs help more than I do. I'll figure something out to deal with my own...problems."

Bilbo took a moment to consider this, then nodded. "All right."

Holly tentatively held her arms out and let out a small sigh when he stepped into the embrace. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," she mumbled, resting her head against his.

She could feel the small vibration of his half-laugh. "I think we're even."

Holly closed her eyes, drawing comfort from the warmth of his body. Insane or not, she couldn't deny how secure she felt in Bilbo's presence.

A battle would be coming soon. There was a good chance that Smaug was still alive, and an even greater chance that Damon would confront her again.

Any one of those events could kill her. But despite that, Holly vowed to fight with everything she had to protect the people she had grown to love.

**So...Holly's not doin so good. And neither is Thorin. :( Too many crazy person. Now it's just a contest to see who snaps first haha**

**Also I promise the whole Smaug thing is more legit than it seems. Interpret that how you will. And I know the pacing is a little weird (in the true spirit of BoFA!) but after this chapter things will start picking up in terms of literal and figurative insanity.**

**Next chapter will have some Thrandy and more Bard as well as a plot twist that you probably saw coming! Leave a comment telling me what you think, or your theories as to how/if Smaug will make his big comeback!**


	25. The Unsuccessful Treaty

**Chapter 25**

Holly had always considered sleeping to be a necessary evil, mainly because it was six hours of _doing nothing_. Not that she would prefer to die of exhaustion, but she liked to spend her time being productive.

But perhaps six hours of doing nothing was exactly what she needed. Holly awoke feeling...not better, but slightly less delirious and agitated. If nothing else, she would need to be as sharp as possible when she confronted Thranduil.

The air outside was cold and heavy, as though it carried tidings of darker things to come. Yet the thrill of trepidation that ran down her spine seemed to bite deeper than the chill. Trying to convince Thorin, Bard, and Thranduil to come to an agreement...well, once when Holly was younger she had tried to collect three runaway cats as a favor to one of the townspeople. Carrying all three of them back at once had seemed like a good idea at the time. If she failed the task before her, the outcome of that fiasco would pale in comparison.

Holly shook her head. _No._ She would find a way to fix this.

She jumped a little at the feeling of a hand on the small of her back, then relaxed when she realized who it belonged to.

"Did you sleep well?" Bilbo asked.

"Yes, actually," she responded. "I feel less…" She let out a long sigh and shrugged. "I feel much better."

"That's good." Bilbo hesitated, then said,"Listen, about what happened this morning—"

"I was being an idiot," Holly interrupted. "I just...stress, and I was tired, and I overreacted. I know that I was seeing things, but Smaug is dead at the bottom of the lake. He can't hurt anyone, at least physically." She wasn't sure how much damage he'd done in other regards. "I'll find a way to deal with it." Though that hadn't gone so well the last time she'd been in such a position. When she'd first learned of the dark magic in Rivendell, she'd spent too long in the dark and that had nearly cost her friends their lives. "Though, there is one person who would be able to give me the information I need…"

"No," Bilbo said, realizing who she was referring to. "Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."

"I suppose you're right," Holly acquiesced, though she wasn't sure if the dangers of confronting Damon again outweighed the consequences of ignoring her problems. She didn't want to put the Company in danger again. "Perhaps Gandalf will be able to help, if he ever shows up."

"Right." Bilbo nodded, gazing out over the desolation before them with a crease in his brow.

"And how are you?" Holly inquired.

"Tired," he admitted, and she knew it wasn't a simple matter of getting enough sleep. "I'll be glad when this is all over."

"Let's make that happen, then," Holly declared, striding over to where a rope was coiled off to the side, with one end tied to a post. "I shouldn't be gone for more than a couple of hours. While I'm away it would be very helpful if you could knot the rope at intervals so I'll have an easier time climbing back up—"

"What are you doing?"

Biting back a groan, Holly turned to face Thorin as he approached the two of them. Clouded eyes darted from Bilbo to Holly to the rope in her hands, then over to Dale. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Holly spoke before he could.

"I'm going to Dale." Honesty was the most logical path to take if she wanted to keep herself trustworthy in his eyes. "I'm going to try and settle an agreement that won't result in both parties trying to kill each other."

"You would offer them a share of the treasure?" Thorin demanded.

"That's not what I _said_," Holly retorted, then quickly reined in her irritation. "I plan on convincing them that they can't get what they want through violence. What if we need Dale's allegiance in the future?"

"We do not need anything from them," the dwarf argued.

"Maybe not now," Holly returned. "But what about when we start rebuilding the kingdom? Where will we get the food and other supplies necessary to provide for the refugees coming from the Blue Mountains? Dale lies right at Erebor's doorstep—commerce between the two would be a bit awkward if we end up warring with each other."

Thorin paused, and Holly held her breath.

"And what of the Mirkwood elves?"

"They have no business here," she asserted. "And you're the lord of these lands. I'll convince them to leave."

"I _am_ the lord of these lands," Thorin said, still glaring. "And I will not be told how to rule it by a peasant woman."

"Thorin," Bilbo reprimanded, though neither of them turned to look at him.

"Of course." Holly nodded, nails biting into her palms to restrain her irritation. "Your judgement has never led us astray. And I'll obey whatever course of action you think is best." Validating Thorin's power and position seemed to be the best option in keeping him receptive to her ideas.

A long silence stretched across the length of the wall. Thorin appeared to be considering what she had said. Eventually he ground out, "Offer them nothing. Once you are done, return immediately."

"I won't let you down," Holly promised as the dwarf turned on his heel and retreated back into the mountain. That, at least, was a genuine statement.

"How did you do that?" Bilbo asked once the sound of Thorin's footsteps had been overtaken by the whistling of the wind. "So far he hasn't listened to anyone's suggestions, let alone agree with them, and you just…"

"I simply suggested an idea and let him make up his mind," Holly replied. "After all, you can't kill an idea, can you? Not once it's made a home…" She tapped one finger in the center of his forehead. "Here."

_Manipulative,_ hissed a familiar voice. Holly felt the slightest tremor pass through her fingertips. What was she turning into?

Bilbo seemed not to have noticed. "Well, you certainly have a way with words."

Holly smiled softly. "Right. Well, I'd better get going before Thorin changes his mind." She took the rope and tossed it over the wall. "I'll see you s...oh." It was a long way down to the bottom of the wall.

"What's wrong?" Bilbo moved next to her and peered down over the edge of the wall. "You're afraid of heights?"

"It's not so much the heights as falling. I'm not eager to crack my skull open if I slip."

"Maybe you shouldn't go, then," Bilbo suggested. "If this is going to be too much for you…"

She scowled. "I can't just not go." She'd faced down stone giants, bloodthirsty orcs, and overlarge spiders. She _should_ be able to climb down a wall with relative ease. In theory. Holly gripped the rope, heart thumping in her chest. _Right. Face your fears._

"Really, if you're not up to it…" Bilbo continued.

"You have little faith," Holly scoffed, though her knuckles had already turned white. Gingerly, she swung her legs over the wall. A wave of vertigo whirled through her head. "Oh, Eru."

"Holly…"

"No, I've got this," she insisted, and began to climb down. Her sweaty palms nearly slipped on the rope several times, and when her feet finally touched the ground, she nearly collapsed, her legs were shaking so hard. When she looked up, Bilbo was smirking down at her.

"See? I knew you could do it."

Holly felt a grin stretching over her face and she gave a trembling laugh. "Reverse psychology. I see what you did there."

"That's what it's called?"

"Technically, yes," Holly called back up, still shaking. And as she gazed up at him, something strange and affectionate welled up in her chest. "I, um…" She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, or if she could even put it into words. "See you. Later."

"See you."

Holly released her grip on the rope and flexed her fingers to regain feeling in them. She was not looking forward to climbing back up. The chilly wind had picked up again, and as she turned in the direction of Dale, anxiety began to trickle back into the pit of her gut.

_All the more reason to get it over with._ Holly steeled herself and began the trek towards Dale.

…

Holly realized that she would not have any trouble convincing anyone of anything, seeing as she couldn't get into the actual city in the first place. The elven guards posted at the entrance were adamant about keeping her out despite her protests.

"We have orders to keep anyone from entering the city."

"Yes, you've mentioned that already. And if you'd bothered to consider what you're doing instead of following your orders like mindless trolls, you'd realize that this particular piece of instruction was meant to keep _dwarves_ out. I am not a dwarf," Holly refuted with a scowl.

The two guards exchanged a wary, half-confused glance.

"If you're not a dwarf, then why have you come from Erebor?" the second elf spoke up. "If you are in league with them then we cannot let you in."

Holly sighed, insults boiling on the tip of her tongue, but another voice sounded from behind the guards.

"No need to worry—she is with me."

"Gandalf!" Holly exclaimed as the gray wizard stepped into view. Reluctantly, the two guards stepped aside and she brushed past them. "You finally decided to show up."

"I was...delayed," Gandalf admitted.

Holly didn't doubt it. Bruises and scrapes covered his lined face and for a moment she felt a small twinge of concern for the wizard. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but he looked a bit more...human, for lack of a better term.

"I need to talk to Bard and Thranduil," she said. "Do you know where they are?"

"This way." Gandalf gestured for her to follow and they began walking through the streets of Dale. Several men were sparring with chipped swords or sharpening weapons in the courtyards. Pairs of elves stood at attention at every corner, standing in full armor and equipped with bows and swords.

Holly frowned. _They really are going to war._

"You've come to try and make peace with Bard and Thranduil?" Gandalf inquired, and she nodded.

"'Try' being the operative word. It's been hard enough trying to handle Thorin—he's gone a bit mad, by the way. Dragon sickness."

The wizard nodded grimly. "I was afraid that might happen."

"_And you let him go anyway_?"

"I told Thorin to wait for me at the overlook. Though if I had been there, I doubt I could have swayed him from his course."

Holly frowned, unsatisfied with that answer, but changed the subject. "You said you were going to Dol Guldur. Did you find anything there?"

The wizard nodded again. "What I discovered there was worse than I expected. Azog has raised an army, and they are marching upon Erebor as we speak."

She scoffed. "And Bard and Thranduil still want to go to war over some gold?"

"Thranduil does not believe that there is any threat besides the dwarves."

"Idiot," Holly seethed. "I'll see if I can't convince him otherwise."

They had reached a large tent in the middle of a courtyard. Its flaps were drawn shut against the wind, but its size was indicative enough as to who they would find inside.

"This is Thranduil's command tent," Gandalf announced, but Holly had already pushed her way inside.

Thranduil and Bard looked up as she entered, wearing similar expressions of mild shock. As Holly made eye contact with Bard, she swallowed hard to get rid of the sharp pain in the back of her throat. The Elvenking raised an eyebrow from where he sat in an ornate chair on the other side of the tent.

"My scouts reported you dead."

Holly halted for a moment, confused, then realized what he was talking about. The elves must have caught up to them after Smaug's attack, when she had temporarily 'died'. "Fire them. If they actually meant to ensure my death they should have slit my throat."

Thranduil's lips curved upwards in cold amusement. "Well, you have no reason to fear for your life now."

Was that because he could sense that the dragon was gone? "I appreciate the sentiment, though I'd really like to have an actual discussion now."

"Ah. Oakenshield has sent you here to do his dirty work, has he?"

Something about his icy stare made Holly realize that she was in enemy territory. No one here, save Gandalf, was really on her side. All of her friends were in a mountain half a mile away.

Trying not to feel cornered, Holly summoned her coldest mask and locked eyes with Thranduil. "If by 'dirty work', you mean negotiations, then yes."

"Save your breath," he responded coolly. "There is nothing to be negotiated here. We will go to war, and I will take what is rightfully mine."

Holly sneered. "You have no claim over anything in that mountain."

"On the contrary…" The elf rose from his seat. "A certain portion of the treasure—a mere handful of gems—belongs to me, and Oakenshield knows it. He is simply too blinded with greed to return them to their rightful owner."

"You're seriously going to war over a handful of rocks?" Holly scoffed.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand. Your dwarf king really should have sent someone more well-versed in such matters." Half a smirk twitched on his lips. "Though I shouldn't be surprised, really, if his judgement is currently a bit...clouded."

Holly ignored the jab at Thorin's sickness. "You're right. I don't understand the value of these gems that you desire. One thing I can comprehend, however, is the value of a life. And it is truly beyond me how you could risk your own people to regain a collection of inanimate, fundamentally useless objects."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "How many lives will be lost in a conflict against thirteen dwarves?"

"What if you're up against more than thirteen?"

Thranduil appeared unfazed by this. "My army has pledged themselves into my service. If a few die in this battle, they will have done their duty."

"What about your son?" Holly replied without missing a beat. "I suppose he's just another letter to send home. Or—no, they would probably inform you personally if he died in battle, right?"

Finally—a flash of anger in the king's eyes informed her that she'd hit a weak spot. Without waiting for a reply, Holly turned to Bard. "Why are you helping him? I've seen your men out in the courtyards. They don't exactly know how to fight. You're really going to send them to their death to fulfill _his_ selfish desires?" She gestured towards Thranduil.

"They came to our aid when we were in dire need of it," Bard responded. "I can hardly say the same for your dwarf friends. And we still require a share of the gold, to help rebuild our lives."

Holly sighed. "If you need gold that badly, I'll just give you my share of the treasure. No one has to fight each other." She turned to Thranduil. "And you can piss off. You're not getting anything from that treasure horde."

The elf tilted his chin up. "I am not leaving until I have reclaimed what is mine."

Holly clenched her jaw. She was running out of cards to play. How exactly was she supposed to dismantle an argument composed of pure idiocy?

Fortunately, Gandalf chose that moment to speak up. "The forces from Dol Guldur will attack with their full strength. If you allow them to take the mountain, they will move on to reclaim Angmar. None of Middle Earth will be safe."

"Ah, yes. This so-called orc army you insist on bringing up." Thranduil narrowed his eyes. "Even if such an army did exist, it would not dissuade me from my cause."

"You would be attacked on both fronts," Holly pointed out. "And Dale's defenses are not much stronger than piles of crumbling rock. If you were to simultaneously take on Erebor and the orcs, you'd be crushed."

Thranduil took a long moment to mull over her words. "I admire your reasoning," he said after a while. "But it does not sway me."

Frustration gave way to desperation. Holly turned to Bard. "And you?" she asked in what she hoped was a beseeching tone. "You've always had the good of the people in mind. Surely you can see why this is wrong."

"This _is_ for the good of the people," he said, though he did not sound entirely convinced. "I will stand with King Thranduil."

Holly knew he had no choice. He couldn't simply cut ties with the Elvenking, especially with his soldiers posted throughout the city. And she was out of options.

"If you're finished now, I have business to attend to," Thranduil cut in.

And now he was _dismissing them_. "This is all just a game to you, isn't it?" Holly asked with a glare that was part disbelief.

The elf nodded, the satisfaction in his eyes glimmering away to cold indifference. "And I believe you've just lost."

….

"Well, that was...a complete disaster." Holly pulled her coat closed against the wind as she and Gandalf stepped out of the tent. "But possibly salvageable. If I come back tomorrow, once they've had time to consider what I said—"

"That will not be possible, I'm afraid," Gandalf cut her off. "Azog's army is less than two days away. Erebor and Dale will be preparing for war, and I'd rather you not leave the mountain until all of this is over." They began walking back towards the entrance of the city.

"Things will only get worse if we wait until this is over," she argued. "Thranduil is going to wage war on Erebor regardless of the orc army. And the dwarves don't have the resources to just wait this out. I can't just sit on my hands and wait for my friends to get killed."

"I'm not asking you to do nothing. I am simply asking you to keep your own safety in mind."

"Right. Fine." She didn't really have to listen to what he said anyway.

"As a matter of fact, you have your own problems to be dealing with," Gandalf continued, making her look up. "The dark magic that you carry," he clarified.

"Oh, that's already been...resolved."

"Resolved?"

She gave a brief explanation of everything that had occurred with Smaug and Damon. The wizard listened intently and stayed silent for a long moment after she had finished.

"This mage...where is he now?"

"I don't know," Holly answered, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips. He had to be out there somewhere...perhaps he had come to Dale with the rest of the survivors. She swiveled her head around, checking each of the shadows and doorways along the street. The same unease she'd felt in Laketown began to grow. What if he was the one making her see things? She turned to Gandalf, seized by a sudden insecurity. "Back in Rivendell, you said you could sense the dark magic. And it's gone now...right?"

Holly could tell, by the slightest turn of a frown beneath his beard, what the answer was going to be. However, that did not stop cold fear from sliding down her spine as Gandalf shook his head.

"No, it is not."

**Hey guys sorry for the late update. Man I wish I had something to fill in the time I spend sitting on my ass and not writing...like school or something. **

**:))))))))**

**This chapter was a bit of a filler but I promise next one will be super long and lots of intense things will happen. And then the chapter after that...**

**Anyway I'm gonna rant about Thranduil right now: the guy is a huge asshole no matter what everyone else says. He's greedy and I don't like him despite Lee Pace being super hot and all. And I think that's part of the problem, if Thrandy was played by Nicolas Cage or some old dude you know he would be put in the Asshole Dads Club right along with Denethor, Odin, and Uther Pendragon rather than being fangirled over by millions. But hey, if you're a Thrandy fan then party hard, man.**

**Please leave a comment letting me know what you think about this chapter, or even what I said about Thrandy! I do love reading what you guys have to say!**


	26. The Solution

**Chapter 26**

Holly was shaking by the time she reached the top of the wall, limbs trembling from the cold and the exertion it had taken to climb up. She gratefully accepted Bilbo's extended hand as he helped her the rest of the way over the battlements.

"How did it go?" His smile faded as Holly paused to catch her breath and shook her head. "They refused?"

"Ignored, really. My argument was practically _airtight_ and Thranduil just sat there with his stupid _smirk_ and told me I didn't understand what was going on. And Bard didn't do anything to help either. Gandalf was there too, and he did very little to aid the situation." She sighed and slumped down against the battlements. "This whole affair is _ridiculously_ idiotic. They're all off to kill people over a bunch of _rocks_." She picked up a chunk of rubble and threw it half-heartedly against the opposite wall.

"Well, no one can say you didn't try," Bilbo offered, taking a seat beside her.

"Trying isn't good enough." Not only did she feel frustrated and humiliated after having lost the argument, but also like she'd let her friends down. "I can't let anyone die."

"I know." Bilbo reached over and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. "And I'm not sure how this is going to work out. But you don't have to do this alone, all right?"

Holly leaned her head against his, trying to relax. "Right. I just don't see any way around this. Both Thorin and Thranduil are being pig-headedly stubborn, and they'd likely do anything to get what they want… Thorin would likely dance around naked to get the Arkenstone—"

Bilbo sat up, causing her to move her head. "That's it!"

"What? I don't think he'd _actually_ do that."

"No, I—" He glanced around as though to make sure no one was listening, then leaned closer. "What if I went to Dale tonight and gave the Arkenstone to Bard?"

She raised her eyebrows. "What exactly would that accomplish?"

"They could use it to bargain for a share of the treasure and make an alliance. Thorin values the Arkenstone above the rest of the gold, so he'll have to give in. There won't be any need to go to war, and we'll be able to face the orc army."

Everyone would be (moderately) satisfied, and with an alliance they would have a better chance at defending themselves. The plan was more than she could have hoped for. "That...is a truly amazing idea."

Bilbo grinned. "You think so?"

"Of course." Holly leaned over and kissed him. "You're brilliant."

Bilbo gave a soft laugh and kissed her back. Holly felt a breathless, warm euphoria spread through her body as she reached up to pull him closer. She wouldn't mind staying like this forever, with his hand cupping her cheek and one of her hands at his nape, tangled in his soft curls.

Though that would be highly impractical, Holly realized as she broke the kiss. She bit her lip as reality reasserted itself none too gently. "I...There's something else I need to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I talked to Gandalf while I was in Dale—explained the whole business with the dark magic and the dragon to him. And then he told me…" Holly took a deep breath. "The bond is still there."

Bilbo blinked, confusion and fear replacing the gentle warmth his eyes had held. "But Smaug is dead."

That had been her initial response as well. "Gandalf's theory is that a portion of Smaug's soul managed to...stick to my own, I suppose. And he doesn't know how to sever the bond, but once the battle is over we're going to find Damon and persuade him to find a solution."

It was some form of a solution, at least, but the thought of attempting to persuade Damon of anything scared her. She didn't know the full limits of his power, or even how he would manage against Gandalf, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. And he had already claimed that the bond was irreversible, so they didn't have a guarantee that they could solve this at all. But living with a dragon hissing poisonous thoughts in her ear until she died…

She'd lost too much of her early life. There was too much What Could Have Been written between the lines of her history. _No more,_ she decided.

"I suppose if Gandalf's there, then you'll be all right…" Bilbo nodded, though he didn't look entirely convinced.

Holy was beginning to understand why everyone seemed to naturally trust the wizard. He had an air of composure and wisdom about him that instilled confidence. She hadn't noticed it before—or perhaps she'd just ignored it. She certainly appreciated his assistance, now that he was actually providing it.

Holly winced as a particularly bitter gust swept over the battlements, making both of them shiver. "Come on, let's get inside. I still have to tell Thorin how spectacularly horrible the meeting went."

…

Thorin felt no surprise upon hearing news of the meeting in Dale. He only experienced a slight flare in the dull anger that seemed to constantly hound him, followed by a sharper flare of resentment for the people of Dale and their Mirkwood allies. It was as he had always suspected—they were after his treasure. He knew of the gems Thranduil desired, and he would rather cut of his own hand than relinquish them to the elf. All the treasure in the mountain belonged to him.

Any attempt to make an agreement had been utterly pointless. Holly had claimed she was trying to help, but such an explanation did not sit well with Thorin. Bofur had mentioned earlier that it was her people that had taken refuge in Dale. That was reason enough for her to assist them in their conquest of his mountain.

Thorin threw a glance across the armory to where the young woman was speaking with Nori, a sly grin on her face. She unsettled him, though he was loathe to admit it. Her eyes were always observing—always watching, with a reptilian cunning that set his teeth on edge. She had to be plotting something. Perhaps she meant to gain allies in Dale for a different reason.

Speaking of gaining allies…

"Master Baggins. Come here."

Bilbo perked up at the sound of his name and locked eyes with Thorin. The hobbit made his way over to him, wending his way around racks of swords and past other members of the Company.

"You're going to need this." Thorin held up the object clutched in one fist, torchlight glinting off its pale facets. "This vest is made of silver steel—mithril, my forebears called it. No blade can pierce it."

Bilbo's eyes widened. "I—Thorin. I'm not a warrior, I'm a hobbit. I can't take this."

"It is a gift. A token of our friendship," Thorin pressed, and Bilbo accepted the vest, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Whether or not the hobbit went to battle with the rest of them, Thorin wanted to ensure his safety. He had come to value their relationship during the time they had journeyed together, and he would see to it that Bilbo returned home safely, after he had done so much to secure the same for him.

A twist of unease forced him to refocus. "True friends are hard to come by," Thorin ground out with a flickering glance towards the rest of the Company. He pulled Bilbo off to the side, so they would not be overheard. "I have been blind, but now I am beginning to see. I am betrayed."

"B-Betrayed?" Bilbo swallowed hard, holding Thorin's gaze with wide eyes. Surely there was only one person for whom he would react with such distress.

"The Arkenstone—one of them has taken it. One of them is _false_."

"Thorin, the quest is fulfilled. You've won the mountain. Is that not enough? Y-You made a promise to the people of Laketown. Is this treasure truly worth more than your honor—our honor? I was also there. I gave my word as well."

"For that, I am grateful. It was nobly done." Such an act of loyalty had been strangely bracing in such a hostile environment, especially coming from Bilbo. Another twist of unease followed as he remembered the master's greedy, glinting eyes. "But the treasure in this mountain does not belong to the people of Laketown. This gold is _ours_, and ours alone. With my life I will not part with a _single_ coin. Not one piece of it." He would not allow anyone to steal from him.

Not even his so-called allies, Thorin concluded with one last glance at a certain sharp-eyed woman.

…..

Holly should not have been smiling. They were on the verge of war, one of her friends had gone mad, and by the looks of it she was heading down that path as well. But for the moment, a rare spark of optimism had quieted her fear. Everything would work out—she was sure of it. Bilbo had come up with a brilliant plan and they were currently sneaking out in the dead of the night to execute it.

It wasn't such a terrible arrangement—just the two of them against the rest of the world.

"You've got plenty of time before my watch is over," she spoke softly, sending a wary glance back down the hall. "Just give them the Arkenstone, and don't yield to any requests Thranduil might make. Within reason, of course."

"Right." Bilbo nodded, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. "Got it."

"Is something wrong?"

"This just doesn't...feel right. What we're doing."

"It doesn't matter what you feel, we just have to get it done," Holly sighed, irritation swelling up and leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Excuse me?" Bilbo turned to her, eyes narrowing in a mixture of confusion and indignation.

"What I'm trying to say…" Holly sighed. Bilbo was simply looking for reassurance, and she was doing anything but. She wanted to see this done without worrying about what might go wrong, but her motives seemed to run deeper than that. The confused emptiness that had swelled up after Smaug's death had been replaced with something more volatile and aggressive...ever since she had entered the mountain. Was she getting sick too?

No. She couldn't be sick, not when so much depended on her own stability.

"Sorry," Holly tried again, attempting to counteract the impatience she had felt before. "Um...Bard and Thranduil have every reason to use the stone as a bargaining tool." Reviewing straightforward logic always helped her calm down, and perhaps it would do the same for him. "And once you've given it to them, it will be out of our hands, so there's no use in worrying what happens after that." Though, really, there was every reason to worry. Their lives depended on the result.

The furrow did not disappear from his brow. "What's Thorin going to make of the Arkenstone suddenly appearing outside of Erebor? He'll think one of us has taken it. He already suspects that someone here has stolen it."

"Oh, I've already taken care of that. Earlier today I suggested that someone could have snuck in and out of Erebor before we built the wall, and that I might have seen someone skulking around outside." At this, Bilbo relaxed a little. At least she could say something right.

"You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Let's hope so." She enjoyed the small glow of happiness that the compliment afforded her.

They stepped out onto the wall. The desolation between Dale and Erebor lay spread out under an inky sky littered with stars and a full moon.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Holly glanced up at the sky, then back at Bilbo. He was gazing upwards, a small smile on his face. It amazed her how he could still find goodness in the world in the face of war. "I suppose it is."

As he moved closer, she caught a glimpse of something silvery-white beneath his coat. Further inspection revealed a chain shirt with ornate designs around the collar. "What is that?"

Bilbo followed her gaze. "Oh, this? Thorin gave it to me earlier. He said it was made of mithril, I think."

"He—_what_?"

"I was a bit surprised myself. Do you think he's trying to fight the sickness?" A brief, terribly fragile ray of hope lit up on his face.

Holly was still reeling from the implications of such a gift. "That, or he's intending to marry you. That shirt alone is probably worth more than your house."

Bilbo paused. "Are you sure about that?"

"No. It might be worth ten times that." And they might have found their solution. Perhaps Thorin would be able to save himself from the dragon sickness. Though she didn't know what would have caused such a realization on his part. "Why now? He's been so...obstinate lately. I thought he was getting worse." And why Bilbo, as opposed to Thorin's nephews, or one of his kin?

"_Oh_." It suddenly hit her, the memory of the treasure hall, when Bilbo had merely said Thorin's name and the dwarf had stopped and listened. And there had been other times, when Thorin's eyes would simply follow him around the room, or when Bilbo had confronted him after Bard had visited, and Thorin had given him assurances, however vague, instead of merely brushing him aside. "It's _you_."

"I—what's...me?"

Holly didn't know if Thorin's actions were a product of his madness or not, and she wasn't interested in finding out. But either way, it could work to their advantage. "I'm not sure why, but Thorin clearly trusts you more than all the others. He really cares about you."

A strange thought occurred to her. If Thorin favored him so in such a paranoid state, how would he act once he was better?

"I think if anyone would be able to talk him out of the dragon sickness, it would be you."

Bilbo was silent for a moment, digesting what she had said. It was a huge burden to carry, to be the only one able to save him, and for a moment Holly began to regret telling him.

But then he brightened with a weary smile and said, "I'll do what I can, then."

"All right." It still didn't sit well with her, leaving him to do this on his own. "You're...incredibly strong for doing this. You know that, right?"

"That's two compliments in one day," Bilbo observed. "Who are you and what have you done with Holly?"

They laughed at that. Holly tried to pretend that she hadn't been asking herself that question every day.

"Well."

"Right."

"I guess I should…" Bilbo jerked his head in the direction of Dale.

Holly straightened her posture. _Back to work._ She could mope about her own problems later. "Let's not waste any more time, then. There are guards posted at each entrance, so you'll have to sneak in. You can just use your ring, right?"

As soon as the words left her mouth something barely perceptible snapped into place in Bilbo's expression—something guarded and entirely out of place. "How do you know about that?"

"I saw you turn invisible. Or Smaug did," Holly explained, fidgeting with her coat sleeve. "And after giving it some thought I concluded that you must be carrying some sort of magical object, seeing as you don't have any natural magical ability. It must be something portable, easy to hide, and simple to activate—something that could be used on accident. A ring was the most logical choice."

Bilbo gave a stiff nod. He didn't look impressed. "Well, you're right. I did find a ring in the Misty Mountains."

He had found it in the goblin tunnels, most likely, when he had been separated from the Company. Holly should have just left it at that. She didn't know what impulsive curiosity prompted her to ask, "Can I see it?"

"I need to get going." His answer was so abrupt and unexpected that Holly could not think of a single thing to say.

And she could only watch as he turned and began climbing down the wall, leaving her confused and wondering what she had done wrong.

….

As soon as Bilbo's feet hit the ground he let out a heavy sigh and glanced back up the wall, but there was no sign of Holly. He frowned, inwardly berating himself. How he had acted had been rude, and unacceptable, and he really meant to apologize as soon as he got back.

But at the same time, he couldn't ignore how defensive and scrutinized he had felt, how Holly's observational skills had seemed more like a threat than an asset. She didn't need to know about the ring—no one did. It was none of her business. Even as the thought crossed his mind, Bilbo slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers running across smooth gold.

He had felt this sort of aggression and possessiveness in Mirkwood, though it had been much more extreme then. The ring had slipped from his grasp at one point and one of the spiders had touched it—just bumped against it—and Bilbo hadn't realized what he had done until the spider had long since stopped squeaking and struggling to get away and he stood with spider blood and gore covering his sword and his face and his hands—

Bilbo took a deep, shuddering breath as he resurfaced from the memory. Perhaps it had just been a side effect of being in Mirkwood for too long. But it had still haunted his nightmares while he had been trapped inside the elves' fortress. To think that he was capable of something like that made him sick to his stomach.

He didn't want to hurt anyone else.

Another gust of wind brought him back to the present, and he realized he was close to the city. As he neared the bridge leading to one of the gates, he slipped on the ring, familiar tendrils of something thick and heavy relieving the tension in his shoulders and placing a new kind of tension somewhere near the base of his neck.

Holly had given him directions to the command tent, so he made his way swiftly through the streets, dodging around the elves and men since they couldn't exactly step aside for someone they couldn't see.

As Bilbo approached the tent, he heard Gandalf's voice, sounding equal parts agitated and concerned.

"Is gold so important to you? Would you buy it with the blood of dwarves?"

"It will not come to that," Bard responded, and as Bilbo rounded the corner he saw the two of them arguing outside the tent. "This is a fight they cannot win."

"That won't stop them," he interjected as he took off the ring, shaking off the strange fatigue that the motion cast over him. "You think the dwarves will surrender? They won't. They will fight to the death to defend their own." Even if the dwarves disagreed with Thorin's decisions, they would still follow him into battle.

"Bilbo Baggins!" Gandalf exclaimed. "I am very glad to see you alive and well." Bard gave a polite nod after recovering from the shock of his sudden appearance.

"It's good to see you too, Gandalf." Bilbo offered a warm smile.

"What are you doing here?" The wizard's tone turned from affectionate to stern. "You should be in Erebor."

Bilbo became very conscious of the weight of the Arkenstone in his pocket. "I've come to continue the negotiations."

"There's nothing more to negotiate," Bard said, though he did not look happy about it. "We are going to war."

"Well, I may have something that will change your mind."

That was enough to pique Bard's interest, and he motioned for him to enter the tent. As the three of them stepped inside, Gandalf sent him a glance that plainly read, _I hope you know what you are doing._

Thranduil was already inside. He fixed Bilbo with an analytical stare that was not unlike Holly's, though it lacked any of the warmth that she usually gave. He was trying to think of a proper greeting when the elf king spoke.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is the halfling who stole the keys to my dungeons from under the nose of my guards."

"Uh." Was he still angry about that? "...Yes. Sorry about that." Thranduil did not respond, choosing to continue scrutinizing instead, so Bilbo went forth and placed the Arkenstone on a table in the center of the room. "I came to give you this."

Thranduil's eyes widened, as did Bard's as they gazed at the stone. "The Heart of the Mountain," the elf king breathed. "The King's Jewel."

"And worth a king's ransom," Bard added, his gaze not nearly as enraptured as the other king's. He turned to Bilbo. "How is this yours to give?"

Oh. He hadn't thought about that. "I...took it as my fifteenth share of the treasure," Bilbo answered. That seemed like a legitimate enough answer.

"Why would you do this?" Bard asked. "You owe us no loyalty."

"I'm not doing it for you. I know dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult...and suspicious and secretive, with the _worst_ manners you can possibly imagine. But they are also brave and kind and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can." Bilbo sighed, the affectionate glow from his words wrestling with his trepidation of what he had to do next. "Thorin values this stone above all else. In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you're owed. There will be no need for war."

Bilbo swallowed hard as a contemplative silence followed. _I'm doing the right thing,_ he had to remind himself, but the words felt empty.

"Very well." Thranduil was the first to speak. "We will use the Arkenstone to bargain for what is ours. Let us hope your dwarf king knows a good deal when he sees one."

Bilbo nodded, feeling numb, and followed Gandalf out of the tent.

"That was a very brave thing to do," the wizard commented as they left. "And I hope this plan of yours will work."

"It will work." Bilbo found his voice again, repeating the words that had become a sort of a mantra between him and Holly. _It has to work._

"Rest up tonight. You must leave on the morrow."

"What?"

"Get as far away from here as possible."

"I'm not leaving," Bilbo protested. "You picked me as the fifteenth man. I can't leave the Company now." Even if that meant that he had to fight in the battle. "Don't worry about me. Erebor is one of the safest places there is. They'll be able to defend against the orcs."

"It's not the orcs you should be worried about. I don't like to think what Thorin will do when he finds out what you've done."

_Thorin. _Bilbo could feel the slightest tremor in his hands, and clenched them into fists. "I-I'm not afraid of Thorin."

"Well, you should be. Don't underestimate the evil of gold. Dragon sickness seeps into the hearts of nearly all who come to this mountain."

"What are you saying?" Bilbo demanded. "That we can't help him?"

"The history of this land is written in blood. Thorin's grandfather and father succumbed to the gold sickness, and it drove their people to grief and misery." Gandalf paused, the creases lining his face seeming to grow deeper. "Who can say that Thorin will be any different?"

….

"Fool. You think this plan will work? You are merely planning your own demise."

"Shut up," Holly growled from where she was seated against the battlements. Smaug was pacing back and forth across the wall like an oversized, hateful cat. She fought to clamp down on the whirlwind of despair, rage, and panic that she now recognized as not her own emotions, but Smaug's attempt to unhinge her with his influence. "I'm not in the mood. Go bother someone who cares."

"Oh, you're going to have to do more than 'I don't like you, go away' if you want to get rid of me," the dragon sneered.

"Fine," Holly snarled back, anger swelling and crashing down like the waters of the Long Lake during a storm. She spared a moment to calm down, then continued in a more level tone. "If you're not going to leave, then at least tell me how to get rid of you."

Smaug fell into a smirking, taunting silence. Holly grit her teeth. If he could influence her, then perhaps she could do the same. "_Answer me_."

"Fighting back now, are we?" He sounded irritatingly amused. "You can't get rid of me. I _am_ you."

"No."

"I am in your blood."

Finally, some information. Holly touched the heated pulsing spot on her chest. She had checked it earlier that day and had found a dark, bruise-colored circle about half an inch wide. The spot was right over a small scar she had, something she had originally dismissed as a childhood accident, but in light of recent events she had no doubt it was something more sinister. _I am in your blood…_

"I have some of your blood, then," she concluded aloud.

"Took you long enough," the dragon scoffed. "So I suppose if you wanted to get rid of me, bleeding out work nicely enough."

Holly shut her eyes. "There has to be another way."

"Hm. Perhaps there is. Or perhaps everything I've told you so far is a lie."

Holly sighed. Clearly she wouldn't be able to get anything else out of him, and the information she had received so far might not even be true. She wondered how one part of her mind could keep secrets from the other. Perhaps she was developing a split personality—she'd heard of that happening to people. How bad was it that she was questioning her own sanity?

A low creak made Holly tense up, but it was only the rope on the other end of the wall being pulled taut. She scrambled to her feet and hurried over to help Bilbo over the battlements. A slight movement further out in the plain caught her eye, but she dismissed it as a trick of the light (or lack thereof). No one in their right mind would be wandering around on the plains at this time of night, unless they also had some sort of illegal trade to establish.

"How did it go? Did they accept?" she demanded, risking a glance behind her. Smaug had already gone. When Bilbo didn't answer immediately, she turned back and frowned. "Did something happen?"

Bilbo opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut and slumped against the wall, all color draining from his face.

Holly was at his side in an instant, placing one hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"I shouldn't have done that," he finally spoke, the words coming out so softly she almost didn't catch them.

"What are you talking about?"

"I betrayed Thorin. I-I know it was my idea, but I went behind his back and...When he finds out, he…" Bilbo took a breath to compose himself. "I just don't know if we're doing the right thing."

_The right thing…_ Holly was hardly an expert on the _right thing_ to do or say. She'd always relied on logic and efficiency instead of morals. "I don't know if what we're doing is right or wrong. But I do know that giving up the Arkenstone is what needs to be done, regardless of whether or not we're going behind Thorin's back. What I'm trying to say is, the ends justify the means. And once Thorin is himself again, he'll thank you for what you did. It'll turn out fine, I—" Holly paused. She'd been about to say, _I promise_, but the words seemed too fragile now, so she settled on a simple, "It'll be all right."

Bilbo cracked a faint smile. "That's...strangely optimistic, coming from you."

"It's not optimistic, it's practical," Holly corrected even as a small smile danced on the corners of her lips. She brought her hand up and began gently massaging the back of his neck, hoping to ease the tension in his muscles.

Bilbo sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing a bit under her touch. They fell into a comfortable silence. Holly wanted to continue to reassure him, though she didn't know what to say next. Though perhaps she didn't have to speak. She leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips, trying to convey as much strength and security as she could through the contact. Bilbo kissed her back, pressing one hand against her back to pull her closer.

As she deepened the kiss, Holly realized that perhaps she was attempting to draw strength from him as well. She was terribly afraid, and being with Bilbo did nothing to alleviate that, but it gave her a drive to push forward anyway.

Surviving this ordeal with the orcs and the elves and Smaug and Damon and her own questionable sanity had seemed near impossible at first, and it still did. But she wasn't alone, and that made all the difference.

…..

Holly awoke to a penetrating darkness and an equally penetrating silence. She scowled and sat up, hoping it was morning. _Enough gold to line the streets of Dale and these dwarves didn't think to put in some damned windows…_ She shrugged her coat on and fumbled her way over to the door, pulling it open and squinting against the dim torchlight.

Everyone else appeared to be awake already, seeing as their doors were already open, but this observation gave way to blank, numb terror as she caught sight of the figure limping down the hall.

"H-How did you get in here?"

"Same way I came in last time," came the insultingly casual reply.

Holly stayed frozen, torn between retreating into her room and running away down the hall. Damon was _here_, in the mountain, and he was making it all too clear that he could have attacked her and her friends any time he wanted. She assessed the stone walls, the doors, the braziers—nothing would make a suitable weapon. She could try to find something else in her room, but that might take too much time. Her nails might prove effective, though, if she went for his eyes and possibly his throat.

"If you're done planning my demise, there's more I need to tell you."

"No." Damon hadn't slowed his advance, and Holly took several steps back to compensate. "Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it." Not when she was so utterly helpless.

"Are you going to run again? You know, it's rude to run away while people are talking to you. And I promise you won't get away with it like last time." Damon stared her down, his dark eyes boring into hers and making her hands shake despite her attempts to keep them still.

"No? Watch me." It was her only option. She had to get to her friends and warn them before Damon could do anything.

Holly turned and sprinted down the hall, her footsteps echoing off the stone. To her surprise, she heard no sound of pursuit. Perhaps he couldn't run after her...or he had something else planned.

But this wasn't a nightmare. She wasn't nearly as powerless as she had been then.

And Holly would _not_ let Damon hurt anyone ever again.

What was she even supposed to say to the dwarves? _There's a one-legged madman in the mountain with us and I need you to not listen to anything he says!_ If Damon decided to tell the dwarves about her connection with Smaug, they probably wouldn't believe him, but she wasn't sure if she could lie to their faces about it.

Holly rounded the corner, the first words of warning already on her lips, and tripped on something heavy. Her palms met with a thin layer of something sticky as she hit the ground. She winced in disgust, then horror, and her eyes shot up in search of an explanation.

Nothing could have prepared her for the dozens of corpses that lined the floor of the hall.

**Haha so like, how would you guys feel if I killed off a bunch of characters? I'm, uh, asking for a friend.**


	27. The Fading Light

**WARNING for extreme implied violence and gore in the first section of this chapter. If you want to skip the violent part, scroll past the XXXXXXX. Remember to take care of yourself and if you need to talk you can always PM me!**

**Chapter 27**

"_There is a face beneath this mask, but it isn't me. I'm no more that face than I am the muscles beneath it, or the bones beneath that." —Steve Moore; __V for Vendetta_

Holly felt her breath catch in her throat as she took in the massacre before her. The entire hall was stained red. At least a hundred armored bodies—dwarves, she realized—lined the floor in a twist of limbs, glistening organs, and rent armor. The sickly stench of blood and a more sulphurous scent commonly associated with magic caused her to raise the back of one blood-stained hand to her face to ward off the smell.

It didn't make _sense_. Where had all these dead bodies come from? Perhaps they were the reinforcements Thorin had called. She stood on shaky limbs, searching the corpses and hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't recognize any of them.

But of course she couldn't be so lucky. Damon had planned this, after all. He had likely planned that she would find Nori first, lying with his neck twisted at the wrong angle, his shrewd gray eyes blank and unseeing.

"No, no no no _no_." Holly didn't register the impact of her knees hitting the floor, nor the wetness of blood soaking into her dress as she gazed at her friend's dead body. She couldn't breathe. And she couldn't look away, despite her pounding, aching head screaming at her to do so.

She had been laughing and talking with him only yesterday. Back when she had merely assumed that they would all be safe. She'd taken that for granted, and now...

Holly gasped for air and was finally able to wrench her gaze away, a burning, wretched curiosity demanding that she look for the others.

Thorin caught her gaze next. The breastplate of his golden armor was so bent and twisted and matted with blood and broken ribs that she couldn't even begin to identify what had happened to him.

And farther down the hall…

Holly ran, scrambling and slipping over corpses and blood until she was kneeling beside him, letting out a jagged approximation of a gasp.

Bilbo lay on his back, the blood from the hole in his chest pooling the floor. His eyes, once filled with so much kindness and warmth, were now widened in mild surprise, and even though Holly was silently begging him to look at her, to _say something_, they didn't move to meet hers.

"_No_. Bilbo, please." Her voice cracked into a sob, and the movement caused another fracture to appear somewhere deeper, in a more primal part of her. "No, _please_." The voice that left her mouth wasn't her own, but that of a girl twenty years younger and pleading over the body of a man who had water in his lungs instead of air.

Holly was dimly aware of tears running down her face and landing with a soft _tap tap_ on the floor as she cradled his body in her arms. She was too late. Yesterday he had been fine, they had all been _fine_ and now...now it was as though she had entered a different world, one without all the people she loved.

A world without pain, because the ripping, tearing sensation she was experiencing could not possibly be equated to something as mundane as _pain_.

"You could prevent this." The sound of Damon's voice behind her caused Holly to blink back tears, stiffening in fear and rage.

She gently lowered Bilbo's body back to the ground and turned to face him. "What?"

She received a cold glare in return. "You didn't actually think I killed them, did you?"

Confusion and frigid hope washed over her as she stood up. Was she merely having another nightmare? "Stop with the mind games, and explain." Her voice came out hoarse and trembling, but a furnace of anger was already beginning to melt the icy grief that had consumed her moments before.

"I'd really rather talk to you in person. If you want to find out how to save your friends, come and see me. Ravenhill. And come soon. I won't be waiting forever."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll be there." And after she got him to reverse the spell, she would tear his heart out and make him watch it stop beating.

"Good. It's not me your friends should worry about anyway—they should be afraid of you."

…**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Holly woke to a pounding head and damp cheeks. She sat in the dark for a while, scrubbing at her eyes until they were raw and wondering why her friends would have any reason to fear her.

Hopefully she was truly awake this time, and hadn't only woken within her dream, if such a thing was possible. When had it become so difficult to discern what was real and what was not?

She found the rest of the Company gathered on the wall in a tense group, their gazes focused on Dale. There was no trace of any reinforcements. Holly let out a sigh, relieved that they were all alive.

When she reached the top of the wall, a curse shot from her lips. A sea of gold was moving steadily towards Erebor—rows of armor and bows and swords marching in elvish perfection. Behind the army was a cluster of men. The disorderly conglomeration of mismatched colors and dusty weapons seemed like a spot of dirt next to the polished formation of the elves.

Thranduil and Bard were mounted on an elk and a horse respectively at the front of the group. Even from a distance she could see that they were both armed.

The dwarves were similarly prepared for battle. They had all donned armor and new weapons. Thorin already had an arrow nocked in his bow.

"This is it." Holly went to stand beside Bilbo. "We'll either be remembered as geniuses, or this will all go horribly."

Bilbo lightly elbowed her, and Holly set her mouth into a flat line. It was a poor attempt at a joke, and not really what either of them wanted to think about at the moment. Not trusting herself to say any more on the subject, she reached out and brushed her fingers against his. She was irrationally relieved to find that his skin was warm and that he made eye contact when she turned and glanced at him. _Not dead yet._

The thought of her nightmare raised a burning lump in her throat and she had to look around to make sure that the Company was, in fact, still alive. It was all too likely that Damon would hurt one of them to get through to her—he must have figured that out by now. Holly wanted to find and kill him as soon as possible to prevent that, whether Gandalf was with her or not.

She could not allow anyone else's blood to be on her hands.

And as for the rubbish about herself being a threat to the Company...that was impossible. Obviously she wouldn't—_couldn't_—hurt any of her friends.

"Holly, about what happened last night," Bilbo said. "About what I said right before I left…"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No, of course not. I was being…" He paused, then continued in a more urgent tone, speaking quickly as though ushering the words out of his mouth. "Holly, there's something wrong with this ring. Whenever I put it on, it feels—"

The sharp impact of metal on stone halted whatever Bilbo had been about to say. Thorin stood with his bow held aloft, the string still vibrating from its release. At the bottom of the wall, where Thranduil and Bard had stopped, was an arrow lying at the feet of the elk.

"I will put the next one between your eyes." Thorin aimed another arrow as several of the dwarves cheered and hurled insults in Khuzdul.

Thranduil gave a cold, amused smile and raised one hand. His entire army nocked and aimed their arrows in unison. The laughter and mockery atop the wall swiftly turned to panic as the dwarves ducked behind the battlements.

Holly remained standing, as did Thorin. She knew Thranduil was bluffing, at least for now—he wasn't the type to draw his sword to kill a fly. And she doubted the elf would miss the opportunity to flaunt the Arkenstone in front of Thorin.

Sure enough, Thranduil ordered his army to stand down with another gesture. The air was filled with a reverberating hiss as a thousand arrows slid back into their quivers.

"We've come to tell you," the elvenking said, "Payment of your debt has been offered...and accepted."

"What payment?" Thorin asked. "I gave you nothing. You have _nothing_."

Bard reached into his pocket and withdrew the Arkenstone. As he held it up, the jewel's facets glittered in the morning light. "We have this."

Thorin lowered his bow, eyes riveted on the stone. Holly had to remind herself to breathe.

"They have the Arkenstone," Kili gasped. "Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house? That stone belongs to the king."

"And the king may have it, with our good will." Bard tossed the stone in the air, making several of the dwarves tense up, then slipped it back into his coat. "But first he must honor his word."

Thorin shook his head, eyes burning. "They're taking us for fools. This is a ruse, and a filthy lie." He raised his voice so everyone could hear him. "The Arkenstone is in this mountain. It is a trick!"

Holly let out a loud, irritated sigh. "Really?" Thorin's eyes found hers with remarkable speed. She moved to the center of the wall, trying to control the tremor in her hands. "You and I both know it's not a _trick_. So just give them the gold and stop being so damned stubborn."

_Hm. That wasn't the right thing to say now, was it?_

She opened her mouth to correct herself, but Thorin's glare caused her voice to catch in her throat.

"This was your plan all along, wasn't it?"

"What?" An incredulous laugh bubbled up of its own accord. "You don't really believe—"

"_You_ stole the Arkenstone and gave it to them. I should have known that you would conspire with you own kind."

It shouldn't have been so hard for her to look innocent. But the way Thorin was glowering at her, as though they hadn't traveled and worked towards a common goal for months now, as though he didn't even recognize her… "Thorin, th-that's not what happened, I swear." She had to convince him that someone else had stolen the Arkenstone. "I already told you, I thought I saw—"

"It was me. I gave it to them."

Silence blanketed the wall as everyone turned to look at Bilbo. He was standing with his fists clenched, nervous tension written in every muscle in his body.

_What are you doing? _Holly wanted to shout. This hadn't been part of the plan. But this, she realized, was her fault—she had merely assumed that Thorin would believe her suggestion, and now Bilbo was going to pay for her careless actions.

Yet Thorin made no move to act upon his rage. He simply stared, minutely shaking his head. Blank shock and something that looked like _hurt_ seemed to have frozen over his rage.

"You?"

The word sounded entirely foreign coming from his mouth. It hovered in the air, fragile and completely devoid of any anger.

"I took it as my fifteenth share." Bilbo's eyes lowered to the ground.

"You would steal from me?"

"Steal from you? No, no. I may be a burglar, but I'd like to think I'm an honest one. I'm willing to let it stand against my claim." Bilbo caught her eye and gave the slightest of nods. _Trust me._

Of course she trusted him. Holly would trust him with her own life, but she wasn't sure if she trusted him with his own.

"Against your claim?" Thorin's voice twisted from broken into something fractured that wasn't quite amusement. He let out mirthless laugh. "Your claim…" His bow hit the ground with a sharp _clank._ "You have no claim over me, you miserable _rat_."

Holly bit down on her tongue to keep from lashing out at the dwarf. Bilbo was obviously going to try and talk him out of the sickness, and she meant to let him try, but if Thorin was driven to violence, then she could not let Bilbo get hurt.

"I was going to give it to you. Many times, I wanted to, but…"

"But _what_, thief?" Thorin asked, his upper lip curling into a sneer. _Thief…_ He said the word as if it was Bilbo's own name.

The hobbit straightened his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "You are changed, Thorin. The dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word, would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin."

"Do not speak to me of _loyalty_." Thorin took a step forward forward. Holly tensed up and stepped in between them, but then he paused and turned to the rest of the Company. "Throw him from the ramparts!"

Ice cold shock buried itself into her limbs in hard, pointed shards. The others had frozen as well.

"Did you not hear me?" Thorin grabbed at Fili's arm but the blond dwarf shoved him away, fear and defiance in his eyes. Thorin whirled around to look at the rest of them, only to be met with silence and wide eyes. "I will do it myself."

He started forward, but Holly stepped forward as well, slamming her shoulder into his chest. "No, stop, STOP IT!" With his armor, it felt more like she'd slammed into a brick wall, and he didn't even stumble back, but it was enough to make him stop.

Holly was shaking uncontrollably, but with rage rather than fear. She wanted to make him _bleed_. She wanted a weapon. At the moment she had nothing but words, but she intended to make every one of them cut deep.

However, as Holly looked up with hate blazing in her eyes, she faltered. As she locked gazes with Thorin, she was met with something far more vulnerable than she would have ever expected. Through the clouds of sickness there was an ocean of pain and...were those tears in his eyes?

But as soon as she identified his suffering it was gone, snapped up in the jaws of madness, and Thorin shoved her aside. She hit the ground so hard the impact knocked the air from her lungs.

"Bilbo—no—" Holly gasped as Thorin seized the hobbit and dragged him towards the edge of the wall. Her heart nearly stopped when he thrust him towards a gap in the battlements, Bilbo's feet brushing the edge of the precipice.

"Curse you! Cursed be the wizard that forced you upon this Company!"

She didn't remember standing up, but suddenly she was next to Thorin, joining the Company in their efforts to pull the both of them away from the edge of the wall.

An echoing, booming voice caused them all to freeze. "If you don't like my burglar, then please don't damage him. Return him to me." Gandalf had appeared at the head of the army, next to Thranduil and Bard. "You're not making a very splendid figure as King under the Mountain, are you, Thorin, son of Thrain?"

Thorin glared down at the wizard, hands still gripping Bilbo's coat. The hobbit was panting and shaking, his eyes fixed on Thorin as though silently pleading him not to let go, though the dwarf did not acknowledge this.

After what seemed like hours Thorin turned and shoved Bilbo to the side. He barely had time to stumble before his knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

Holly rushed to his side, angling her body between his and Thorin's in case the dwarf tried anything else. "Come on, let's get out of here." She helped him to his feet and over to where the rope was coiled.

As she reached down to gather up the rope, Holly paused at the hand on her shoulder.

"Stay here."

"What are you talking about? I'm going with you."

Bilbo shook his head, his tone becoming more assertive as he spoke. "No. You'll be safer here, and you have to—you have to help him. Please."

"Help _Thorin_?" Holly threw a glance back at the dwarf, where he was yelling more things to the people at the bottom of the wall. As far as she was concerned, he was a lost cause.

"We can't give up." Bilbo reached one hand up to cup her cheek. "Please. Can you do this for me?"

"All right." The words were out of her mouth before she could even pause to think. "All right, I will."

Bilbo nodded, seeming to have too little the energy for anything else. Holly searched for something in her scrambled mind to say to him, something _right_, but the words wouldn't come.

And then he was gone.  
…..

The plains in front of Erebor had turned into a churning sea of death. The dwarvish reinforcements had arrived, as had the orcish army, and it hadn't taken long after that for man and elf and dwarf and orc to start stabbing each other.

And Bilbo had walked right into that. Holly's guilt had already burned an acid hole through her chest, though she knew she would have been more of a hindrance than a help if she'd gone with him.

"I'm going over the wall," Kili said. "Who's coming with me?"

The dwarves cried out in agreement and moved to follow him. Holly watched them go, the ache in her chest expanding and flattening her lungs.

"Stand down."

Thorin's command hung in the air like heavy rain, causing what was left of the Company to fall silent.

Fili was the first to speak. "What, are we to do nothing?"

"I said, _stand down_."

They all watched as Thorin climbed down the wall and disappeared into the shadows of Erebor.

_Help him…_ Holly didn't think—she simply climbed down the wall after him, her shock melting away against the rage boiling in her veins. She would definitely try to _help_, and perhaps rearrange his face while she was at it.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Holly didn't stop until a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. Nori was giving her a hard stare, his eyes searching hers for something, though she was too angry to guess what.

"I'm going to talk to Thorin." She wrenched her arm from his grasp.

"Not like this you're not. We're all upset at what happened, but talking to him while you're angry isn't going to solve anything."

"I'm not—" Holly stopped and took a deep breath, forcing her anger under the surface. "Fine. I'll try not to be angry, but I can't promise anything beyond that."

"Whether or not he deserves it, you have to give him your respect. He's still our king—"

"He's still your king." Holly gave a humorless laugh. "Well, that changes everything, doesn't it?"

Nori rolled his eyes. "This isn't something that you would understand."

"I don't think I do. Perhaps I should just stick to _my own kind_, then?"

"I didn't say that, Thorin did. Who are you supposed to be angry at, anyway?"

She was angry at Thorin. But was it her anger? Or Smaug's?

_No._ Thorin had nearly killed Bilbo. She had every reason to be furious with him.

Holly swallowed hard, which left a sensation akin to downing crushed glass. "I'm going to be very angry with _you_ if you don't get out of my way."

"I'm not even in your way," Nori said, but she had already turned and left the entrance hall.

….

The short argument with Nori had slowed her down enough that it took her quite a while to find Thorin. The treasure hall had been her first guess, but the search there had proved fruitless and a waste of time.

With nothing to fuel them, most of the torches in the halls had flickered out or died to mere glows of red light. And with them, Holly felt her anger waver into a fraction of what it had been.

The remorse came swift and blunt. She shouldn't have spoken to Nori so harshly. Not that she necessarily agreed with what he had said. Holly still meant to speak to Thorin, though she didn't know what she was going to say to Thorin when she found him. Screaming in his face was seeming a less appealing option by the minute.

As she passed the throne room, a pair of voices caught her attention. She peeked through the doorway and spotted Thorin sitting on the throne. Dwalin stood before him and was speaking in a low, pleading voice.

"Thorin, they are dying out there."

Holly ducked back behind the wall as Thorin looked up. She had never heard Dwalin sound so...vulnerable. She felt as if she was intruding on a private conversation, which she was, but even more so because of the two dwarves' close friendship.

The hall fell completely silent, and Holly strained her ears with bated breath. After a moment, Thorin spoke, "There are holes beneath holes within this Mountain, places we can fortify, shore up, make safe. Yes." She heard the faint clank of his armor as Thorin stood up. "Yes, that is it. We must move the gold further underground to safety." Footsteps, retreating further into the hall.

"Did you not hear me?" Dwalin's demand caused the footsteps to stop. "Dain is surrounded. They're being slaughtered, Thorin."

"Many die in war. Life is cheap. But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend."

Holly covered her mouth as a wave of nausea rolled through her. It was all so..._wrong_. That Thorin would imply that he was willing to risk his own kin and friends for a pile of gold…

Bilbo had been wrong. There was no hope left for Thorin. Nothing could bring him back from this.

"You sit here in these vast halls with a crown upon your head, and yet you are a lesser dwarf now than you have ever been."

"Do not speak to me as if I were some lowly dwarf lord. As if I were still Thorin...Oakenshield." His voice fractured and cracked, becoming raspy and soft as though he was afraid to speak the name out loud. "I am your king!" Over the echo of his shout came a metallic scrape that could only be a sword being drawn.

"You were always my king. You used to know that once." Dwalin's voice became so soft she could barely hear what he said next. "You cannot see what you have become."

"Go. Get out, before I kill you."

A wavering, ringing silence filled the hall. Finally, scuffling footsteps sounded in time with her pounding heart, and moments later Dwalin marched out of the throne room, letting out a jagged, broken sigh as he left.

_You have to help him. Please._

She couldn't. Dwalin, Thorin's closest friend, couldn't get through to him. Bilbo, who had been _so close_ to making progress before, had nearly been killed trying to do the same.

Holly couldn't say anything right. Everything she tried to do had the opposite effect of what she intended. Helping Thorin was impossible—she didn't know how.

"I'm sorry…"

At the very least she could apologize for everything she had done wrong. Holly knew her words would likely fall on deaf ears, but the old Thorin probably would have appreciated it. She owed him that much, at least.

Squaring her shoulders, Holly turned and entered the throne room. Thorin was sitting down at the other end. The narrow walkway leading to the throne seemed a mile long, especially with the yawning chasms on either side.

_Whose idea was it to design the room like this?_ she thought as she began walking. Her footsteps sounded small and pathetic as they echoed off the glowering dwarf statues lining the walls.

_Enemy territory._ The words seemed to glare at her from each of the dying torches, but she dismissed them with a shake of her head.

Thorin did not look up until she reached the end of the walkway. She tried not to flinch under the glare he cast in her direction. "What?" The word came out gravelly and drawn out over what seemed like a full minute.

"I...I want to apologize," Holly said to the ground. Despite everything that had occurred mere hours before, she felt irrationally annoyed at Thorin's tone and had to remind herself to stay calm. "For...everything. While we were in Mirkwood, I was always fighting with you, and you didn't deserve that. I was being spiteful and disrespectful. And now…" She paused to keep her voice from wavering. "I made a mistake. I made a lot of mistakes...and I'm sorry that I couldn't help you."

It took far too much effort to meet his eyes. They were still clouded and devoid of the determination and steady compassion they once held.

"I'm sorry," Holly tried again, as though it would make a difference.

"Stop. What is it that you want from me?" Thorin stood, his eyes blazing like lightning in a storm though his voice remained low. "Your words are poison, _snake_. You have done nothing but manipulate me for your own selfish desires, and you are lucky I didn't cast you off that wall when I had the chance."

Holly clenched her jaw until her teeth ached. _Calm. Stay calm._

A new voice in the form of a low, resounding chuckle sounded behind her. "Mm, that stings, doesn't it?" Smaug said. "Nothing hurts quite like the _truth_."

"Damn you," Holly said, pain and anger raking up her spine.

Thorin's eyes flashed. "What did you say?"

"I said, _damn you, Thorin Oakenshield_!" Holly shouted, her composure swept up in rage like leaves in a storm. She advanced onto the dais where the throne stood. _Stay calm_, the rational part of her mind pleaded, but she was no longer in control.

"You are more selfish and greedy than I ever could have imagined," Smaug said from behind Holly, though hers was the only voice that echoed in the hall. "I respected you once, but now you are nothing more than a _monster_."

Her eyes darted to Thorin's hands, where they had balled into fists, and she laughed, though the sound was foreign and icy to her ears. "What, are you going to hit me? Try and aim for the right side of my face. I've already been hit on the left." She gestured roughly to the bruise on her jaw.

Thorin moved swiftly for one wearing such heavy armor. He grabbed the front of her coat and slammed her against one of the pillars to the side. Holly gasped, the impact jarring her out of her rage.

"Monster, am I?" the dwarf snarled, his face inches from hers.

Her anger yielded to a thick, suffocating terror as Holly locked eyes with him. She could see in his eyes that he meant to kill her. "Th-Thorin—" Her fingers scrambled for purchase on his gauntlets.

"Give me one good reason why I should spare your miserable life."

Holly opened her mouth—she should be able to talk her way out of this—yet no sound escaped her lips. She couldn't think of a way to escape...and why should she? She had brought this on herself. At least if she was dead she couldn't make any more mistakes.

At least if she was dead, she would not hurt any more of her friends.

It came to her then, as she remembered the tears in Thorin's eyes earlier that day—a good reason. A good person.

"I...I don't have a good reason why you should spare _me_. At least, not for my sake. But...I think you and I are similar in some ways. And tearing each other apart isn't what Bilbo would want. We wouldn't _do_ that, would we—you and me? We would _never_ do that to Bilbo Baggins."

Holly knew that some part of him still felt for Bilbo—how strong his feelings were was unclear, but she knew from personal experience that if there was one thing that madness was loathe to eradicate, it was love, no matter how malformed.

It was only when Thorin released her that she noticed his hands were shaking. "You are a coward," he said, his voice not much steadier than his hands. "Leave, and do not come back."

Holly straightened her coat and backed away from him, anger sliding back into place. Though Smaug had long since disappeared, she could somehow _feel_ him smirking. Her legs seemed to move without her permission as she ran away. Away from the echoes that ceased to soften with every repetition.

_Coward._

_Coward._

_Coward._

…..

Holly wasn't quite sure where she had ended up when she finally stopped running. It was simply another long stone hallway, the walls cold against her numb fingertips as she stopped to catch her breath.

Anger surged through her veins and she slammed her fist into the stone wall, feeling dull pain throb in her knuckles. But the rage building in her chest only reared its head. She wanted to destroy something, to _burn—_

A low, rumbling chuckle sounded behind her and Holly spun around.

"I must say, I am impressed," Smaug said with a smirk. "I doubt I could have done a better job myself."

Holly's eyes widened. "_You_..." Everything she had done, with Thorin and Bard and Thranduil and the Arkenstone...

She'd been a mere puppet and Smaug had manipulated her into ruining everything. It couldn't have been worse if she had blood staining her hands.

"Mm...you're close to breaking, aren't you? Regardless, you _have_ been an outstanding pupil," the dragon said. "Easy to manage, at the very least..."

Holly felt another upsurge of anger, but this time it was directed at a new subject. "I..." She took a deep breath. "I am going to get rid of you. And then I am going to fix this."

"_Fix_? Impossible. You and I...we were built only to destroy—nothing more."

"Then I'm going to destroy you, if it's the last thing I do."

Thorin had asked her to leave Erebor, so she would. And she would go to Ravenhill, and finish what Damon had started.

**Sorry I am TRASH. I am TRASH and I am SORRY.**

**It took a while to get this one out because I was busy writing the next chapter, where things absolutely go to hell. I don't even know. People die and get shot and...it's a mess. Dammit.**

**This chapter was real wild. Most of this whole insanity stuff was sort of last minute and unplanned, as was the...thing...going on with Thorin and Bilbo. I am Bagginshield TRASH but I promise it'll get resolved. I'm not about that love triangle bs.**

**So let me know what you think and! your prediction for who will die next chapter I guess? Bc someone is gonna die, and it's not gonna be pretty.**


	28. Death Upon the Hill

**WARNING for violence and a lot of blood. Also give Holly some love, I really dragged her through the coals with this one :E**

**Chapter 28**

"_We live together, we act on, and react to one another; but always...we are by ourselves. The martyrs go hand and hands into the arena; they are crucified alone." —Aldous Huxley; __The Doors of Perception_

The mirror was cracked and dirty, over a century and a half of dust coating its surface. Holly pressed her palm against the cold, grimy glass and wiped some of the dust away, leaving a jagged opening like the stroke of a paintbrush.

She looked like a wild animal with her tangled hair, the pale, thin scar across her cheekbone, and the faded contusion on her jaw. Her eyes were red-rimmed and weighted with bruise-colored shadows.

The last time she had looked in a mirror had been...forever ago, it seemed. Back when she had been a statue of composure, infinitely colder and stronger than she was now.

Trading fortitude for sentiment had been an illogical and ostensibly regrettable decision. After everything that had occurred in the past few weeks, she should have wanted to forget Thorin, forget Bilbo, forget _everyone_ and run away. Sentiment had brought her too much pain and strife.

And yet she clung on, with every fiber of her being, to the small, quiet moments when Dori would teach her to sew, or Bilbo would sit with her and talk about nothing and everything, or she and the Company would rebuild Erebor piece by piece. Those moments made her happy, made everything seem worth it.

Those moments only increased her fear that she would lose control again and hurt someone. Smaug had manipulated her into ruining everything from the beginning, and she'd been too blind to see it. How was she supposed to do anything when she couldn't trust herself?

Holly stared hard at her own reflection, seeking answers she knew she wouldn't find in the pale blue-green eyes glaring back at her.

_What happened to you?_

She started as her reflection smirked, irises flashing gold. Holly stayed frozen, but her double leaned forward.

"Quit stalling. You have somewhere to be, don't you?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she blinked hard, trying to rid her vision of the unsettling image before her.

"Unless you're afraid...that you'll end up killing him."

An echoing crash drowned out the last word as Holly seized the top of the mirror and threw it to the floor. The glass shattered upon impact, crystalline shards darting across the floor as though fleeing from her wrath.

_It's not me your friends should worry about anyway—they should be afraid of you._

Holly turned and darted from the room.

…

_Gold_.

A sea of it lay beneath Thorin's feet, stretching the length of the hall. Since their attempt to kill the dragon, it had cooled and solidified into a flat surface, only the barest of ripples betraying that it had ever been liquid.

And the voices...they had returned with a vengeance. Thorin distantly wondered whether they had ever left.

_(You sit here...with a crown upon your head...you are lesser now than you have ever been…)_

_(But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost…)_

_(A sickness lies upon that treasure…)_

_(I respected you once, but now you are nothing more than a monster…)_

_(The blind ambition of a mountain-king…)_

_(I will not part with a single coin…)_

The voices grew louder until they drowned out his own footsteps. Thorin looked down as a bright, ethereal glow caught his eye. The gold was rolling like waves—

_(He could not see beyond his own desire…)_

_(As if I was some lowly dwarf lord…)_

—caught in a storm, flashing blinding white one moment, and the next blackening so deep he thought he would suffocate. The voices came faster and faster, overwhelming and driving a deep, reverberating pain into his temples until—

_(A sickness that drove your grandfather mad...Oakenshield...This is Thorin, son of Thrain,sonofThror…Iamnotmygrandfather… …)_

Thorin doubled over in agony. The gold beneath his feet flashed and swirled, and he realized he was sinking, that the gold—

_( ...takeErebor...Dainissurrounded... surrounded...is surrounded...Dainissurrounded…)_

—was swallowing him up. He could not move his legs. A serpentine chuckle made him spin around with what limited mobility he had, and though Thorin could not see him, he knew the dragon was there, the dragon that had been hounding him day and night,

_(Take back your homeland…)_

and Thorin knew that it was coming for him, and he could do nothing to stop it.

_(You are changed, Thorin.)_

The dwarf felt tears prick his eyes. He tried to grasp the far off memory just beyond his reach...sunlight and oak trees and familiar laughter...anything to keep the gold from trapping him here forever.

_(I am not my grandfather.)_

_(Is this treasure truly worth more than your honor?)_

_(I am not my grandfather.)_

An agonized scream echoed within the hall and resounded within his own skull, and Thorin realized that it was his own. Somewhere deep within, at the very core of his being, an intangible _something_ fractured and crumbled, and the hall fell silent once more at the unmistakable sound of metal striking metal.

Thorin stared at his crown and the small dent in the gold where it had bounced off the floor. His head was still pounding but as he looked upon the shimmering metal beneath his feet, everything seemed...different, as if a veil had been torn from his face.

And he could see for the first time…

"I am not my grandfather."

…

Holly staggered once more as a swift, biting wind assaulted her body. Climbing the slopes of the Lonely Mountain up to Ravenhill was more difficult than she had anticipated.

Down in the plain before Erebor, the battle raged on. It was clear the dwarves were losing, and she could see from the smoke and crumbling walls that Dale had been overrun. The sight made her stomach turn as she thought of Bilbo. Hoping that he was unharmed was too much to ask for at this point.

She turned her focus back to her goal—the dwarvish fortress. It stood silent and empty, an apathetic spectator to the carnage below. Strategically speaking, she was surprised no one had taken command of it yet, seeing as it would provide an advantage for long-range attacks or as a command center.

Regardless, it would take at least another hour to reach the fortress. Holly began walking again, fastening her coat around her neck. A light snow began to fall from the charcoal clouds rolling in the sky.

Within an hour the wind and the snow had picked up into the beginnings of what looked like a blizzard. Holly had thrown her hood up against the cold, but as she reached the watchtower she lowered it.

Ravenhill was a strange, asymmetrical mixture of towers, open courtyards, and bridges that led over several chasms running under the tower. There had once been a central tower at the edge of the cliff, but it had long since crumbled to a ghost of its former imposing stature.

Holly struggled to climb the uneven staircase leading to the tower. When she passed through the archway leading to a small courtyard, she was met with a suffocating silence.

"Damon!" she shouted. "I'm here. Come out."

Growling in frustration when she received no reply, Holly strode further in, passing through a short hallway and into another courtyard.

"Hello?"

Shuffling footsteps caught her attention and she started forward, but the telltale grunt of an orc made her freeze. Holly almost tripped over her own feet as she retreated back into the hallway.

Her muscles were made of stone, stiff and unmoving, as she watched a group of orcs pass through the courtyard, swinging their serrated blades as they walked. None of them noticed her.

Once they were gone, Holly crept out from her hiding place, swiveling to check behind herself.

Why were there orcs in Ravenhill? They should have been at the battle. Unless they had chosen the fortress as their base…

Holly inched into the courtyard. Damon must have planned this as a trap. But it wouldn't make any sense for him to kill her outright.

"Holly?"

She spun around, heart leaping into her throat. Bilbo was sprinting towards her from the other end of the hallway, eyes wide.

"Bilbo." Relief and worry mingled in her chest. "You're not hurt, are you?"

He ignored the question. "What are you _doing_ here? It's not safe."

"I'm…" What _was_ she doing? There was no logical reason for her to walk out in the middle of a battle to confront a madman. She should have waited for Gandalf, but she hadn't, because…

Holly cursed, bringing one hand to her mouth. This was what Smaug had wanted her to do. He had tricked her. _Again_.

Bilbo brought one hand to her arm, refocusing her attention. "You need to get out of here. We...You can explain later."

She clenched her fists, agitated. Since she was already in Ravenhill, wouldn't it be more practical to wrap things up now? Or was that what Smaug wanted her to do?

"Bilbo, I don't know what to do. I-I don't know if I can trust my own judgement anymore. If I leave, I don't know how much more damage I'm going to cause."

"Perhaps I can help with that."

The introduction of a new voice caused Holly to spin around once more, her body jolting with the adrenaline that surged through her veins.

Damon stood in the center of the courtyard, hands hanging loosely at his sides. The only thing that betrayed his casual stance were his eyes, cold and glinting a murderous black.

Bilbo stepped forward, pushing Holly behind him and drawing his sword in one swift movement.

Holly could not find the words to protest. She had already resigned herself to a confrontation with the mage, but Bilbo's presence set her teeth on edge. She could not allow Damon to hurt him.

"I have to admit—I'm surprised you're still alive."

"I can see why you feel that way, seeing as you knew I was going to die in the first place." Holly shifted so that she and Bilbo stood side by side.

"A stroke of luck, really. Unless you purposefully dominated the dragon's consciousness before he died. That's the only way the two of you could have survived."

Bilbo watched the conversation in silence, confusion flitting across his features. Holly had never given him the details of the dark magic and the conditions of her connection with the dragon. He hadn't really needed to know.

"How do I break the spell?" Holly asked. "There has to be a way."

"I already told you—the spell can't be broken. It runs in your veins."

That was what Smaug had told her. "There has to be a counterspell."

"I have a better idea." Damon stepped forward. Bilbo put a hand on Holly's stomach, trying to push her back, but she held her ground. Showing fear would only be detrimental. "I'm going to bring the dragon back. Part of his soul is still left in you. All I need to do is give it the opportunity to manifest into something physical."

Holly shook her head. "If you were to resurrect the dragon, you would need a host, something corporeal to transform. Which, in this case, would be…" Her thought process slammed to a halt as she recognized the implications of his plan. "Me."

"Good," Damon said, although there was no warmth in his voice. "You're catching on quickly."

"Holly," Bilbo said in a low voice. "When I say 'run', I want you to run."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him," she replied. Then she turned to Damon and raised her voice. "You're going to have to fight us both if you want to resurrect the dragon."

"Oh, no, I need you alive. But your friend here is going to die, either by my hand or yours." He raised his hand, palm outward.

Holly tensed as the air around them began to thicken and tingle with invisible energy, a telltale sign of a spell about to be released. She didn't bother to think, and simply reacted. (That seemed to be turning into a habit.) She threw herself to the side, tackling Bilbo to the ground as something scorching and bright shot past her head. Part of the hallway behind them exploded, stone fragments and dust scattering in all directions.

That had almost killed them both. Holly distantly wondered if Damon even wanted her alive. Perhaps he was too unstable to have a set decision in mind.

Holly scrambled to her feet. Her mind swam with blank adrenaline, devoid of any rational thoughts and providing a painful reminder that she had no idea how to win this fight.

_A plan._ She needed a plan, but before she could summon another thought Damon was upon her, grabbing her wrist and twisting her body so that her arm was bent at a painful angle flat against her back.

Bilbo had gotten to his feet as well and was clutching his sword with white knuckles, glaring in defiance at Damon as the mage's other arm went around her neck, holding her immobile.

"For every step you take…" Damon shifted his grip so that he was holding one of her fingers between two of his. "I will break one of her fingers."

The hobbit stayed frozen in place, eyes flickering from Damon to the sword in his grip, as though trying to figure out how to make the two meet.

"Now, drop your sword," Damon continued, "and kick it over this way."

When he didn't immediately comply, Holly felt her index finger bend back and snap, a bolt of fire streaking up the digit and through her arm. She bit back a scream of pain, choosing to bite down on the inside of her cheek until blood washed over her teeth. Blinking back tears of frustration and agony, she saw the silvery glint of Bilbo's short sword skidding to a halt at her feet.

Holly spat out a streak of blood. "Bilbo, run."

She knew it was unfair of her to ask him to leave. But it would take a miracle to get them both out of this alive.

Though perhaps the knife in her pocket would suffice.

Holly plunged shaking fingers into her coat and fumbled the handle into her grip. A spurt of hot blood met her hand as she plunged the blade into the mage's thigh, taking advantage of the distraction to twist herself out of his grip. Immediately behind Damon, the courtyard dropped into a narrow chasm that ran underneath the watchtower. It would only take one well-placed shove…

But Bilbo had already moved past her and rammed his shoulder into the mage's abdomen. A moment of wide-eyed stillness passed, in which everything seemed to freeze. Holly thought she saw a bit of fear in those black depths.

Damon lost his balance and fell over the cliff.

Holly followed Bilbo over to the edge and watched his body land on the thin dusting of snow at the bottom of the chasm. She wasn't sure if it was curiosity or weakness that brought her to her knees.

Several minutes passed and Damon didn't move.

Finally, Bilbo spoke, his voice coming out in a hoarse rasp against the howling wind. "I-I killed him."

"You beat me to it."

He shook his head, one trembling hand reaching out for hers. She welcomed it with her own, but—

"Ah!" Her hand made a swift retreat, index finger throbbing as her other hand cradled the injury.

"Sorry!" Bilbo reached out his hand, only to realize he couldn't do anything and let it fall back into his lap.

"It's fine." Thankfully her bone hadn't broken through the skin, but the flesh around the fracture had turned a deep purple. "I'll need to set this." Holly wiped the dagger on her dress and stuck it back into her pocket. She drew her coat collar into her mouth and bit hard on the thick fabric. With shaking fingers, she snapped the bone back into place. Another bout of pain flared through her hand and all the way up her arm, making her dizzy.

"...Have you done this before?"

"Mm." Holly nodded. "But the previous time no one was...attacking me…" It suddenly hit her, how close she'd been to losing him, to dying herself. The realization triggered a childish instinct to curl up in a ball and wait for all of this to be over.

No. She had to stop hiding, had to stop trying to run away from the things that scared her.

"Bilbo, I...I couldn't help Thorin. I tried talking to him, but…"

_I respected you once, but now you are nothing more than a monster._

Holly averted her eyes, shame welling up in her eyes, but Bilbo didn't seem as perturbed as she'd expected.

"Thorin rallied the dwarves and led them into battle about an hour ago. Last I saw him, he was here in Ravenhill, and he...he seemed better." He gave her a trusting smile that made sickening guilt swirl in her stomach. "Perhaps your words had more of an effect than you thought."

Holly didn't reply. She was immeasurably relieved that Thorin had come to his senses, but there was no way that what she had said to him had affected him in a positive way.

Though that wasn't entirely true. There was one thing she had mentioned that could have changed his mind, but she didn't want to address that at the moment.

"Which reminds me." Bilbo got to his feet. "There's another orc army coming down from the north, and I need you to get out of here before that happens, all right?"

Holly stood as well and watched him move to pick up his sword. "You're still going to fight in the battle?"

"Yes." Bilbo sheathed his sword and stood up straight. Holly couldn't hold back a small smile. He didn't look like a warrior, not by a long shot, but he did look incredibly brave.

He had certainly changed a lot, and...she felt happy for him.

Holly knew what she wanted to say now. The words that had eluded her for so long seemed to have finally formed into something more comprehensible. "Bilbo, there's something I should say, something I've always meant to say, but I could never seem to find the words. And since there's...a chance...that we won't...that we won't see each other again, I might as well say it now." Her resolve was draining fast, like the last few grains of sand in a cracked hourglass. "I, um…"

Saying those words would make everything so real...her own feelings, the pain of losing him, and the harsh reality that she had worked so hard to escape for so many years.

_Pain._

_Heartbreak._

_Loss._

_Death._

"I know."

Holly looked up, blinking back the moisture in her eyes. "You...You do?"

"Yes, of course. It was a bit obvious, really." Bilbo gave a half-shrug, eyes tinged with sadness.

Holly understood what he meant. But before she could make sense of the influx of information threatening to drown her, a low, harsh cry sounded from somewhere within the watchtower. And with it came the rough reminder that they were not alone, that they were in the middle of a battle and this was not the time or place to be talking about such things.

"I…" Holly took several steps backward, not wanting to take her eyes off him. "I'll see you after the battle."

"I'll see you." Bilbo nodded. "I'm going to find Thorin and the others."

Holly finally managed to turn away. She made for the bridge spanning the chasm Damon had fallen into. As her footsteps echoed across the stone, more cries sounded from within the tower.

_You and I...we were built only to destroy—nothing more._

Holly stopped. Was she making the right choice? If she left, would she be helping Bilbo, or abandoning him? If her poor decisions ended up getting him killed—

The stone beneath her feet exploded in a flash of dark energy. Holly stumbled, the heat from the blast making her flinch and lose her balance. Even as she heard Bilbo scream her name through a cloud of dust and snow, Holly felt the stone tip and throw her from its surface and into the chasm.

…

Thorin's arms were shaking and burning as he held his sword against the jagged edge of the Pale Orc's blade. Azog leered down at him with pointed teeth, the tip of his sword aimed at Thorin's heart.

Thorin knew he was going to die. He had shed his armor before entering the battle, knowing it would only slow him down. But his death wouldn't matter, as long as he was able to slay the Pale Orc and protect his people. It would be the least he could do after dishonoring himself as King of Erebor.

If he were to die, he would die as Thorin Oakenshield.

All he had to do now was let go, to stop fighting. He would have just enough time to behead Azog before he bled out.

It would be an honorable death. His people would remember him as a hero. This sacrifice…

_...isn't what Bilbo would want. We wouldn't do that, would we—you and me? We would _never _do that to Bilbo Baggins._

Bilbo had been so relieved to see him alive on the battlefield. And Thorin had been relieved to see the hobbit as well—to see his endless forgiveness and compassion even after all he had done.

After Holly had forced him to confront his feelings, Thorin had begun to question what he wanted.

Did he _want_ to choose an honorable death? Or did he want to choose his friends, his kin, and Bilbo?

For seven months he had chosen the mountain and the crown over his life in the Blue Mountains, his sister, his nephew, his best friend. It was what any king would do.

Yes, it was what any king would do...but not Thorin Oakenshield.

Thorin let his grip on the blade of the sword fall slack and thrust up with his other hand, deflecting Azog's sword to the side. The tip pierced his shoulder, the hardened metal breaking his chain armor and sliding through flesh and muscle and leaving a flame of agony in its wake.

Azog snarled and tried to pull the blade out, but Thorin reached out and held the blade with his free hand, ignoring the flare of agony that sent white spots dancing in his vision. He used the momentum to lift himself high enough so that he could swing his sword and behead the monster.

A spray of black blood and white spots washed over his vision. Thorin tried to stand as the white mass of muscle before him collapsed. The sword slid out of his shoulder and the next thing he knew was the sky, pale like frost and fading quickly into a solid, peaceful dark.

…

Holly choked and gasped for air. The ground had slammed into her body with bone-shattering force, and would have possibly killed her had it not been for the snowdrift at the bottom of the chasm. As it was, her ribs were likely bruised, if not broken, and her lungs felt as if they'd been deflated.

She couldn't even cry out as chunks of rubble bigger than her body landed all around her with enough force to splatter her innards on the chasm walls.

_Damon…_ That bastard was still alive and had almost killed her for the second time in the past fifteen minutes. Holly tried to stand as panic replaced what little air was in her lungs, but her legs were too shaky to support her weight.

A silvery glint in the snow caught her eye—her dagger. It must have fallen out of her pocket when she fell.

Holly pushed herself onto her hands and knees. The twisting pain in her ribs almost forced her back to the ground. She would need to crawl to reach her dagger, a task that seemed far more arduous than it should have been.

The snow bit into her palms as she struggled to move. Her broken finger sent spikes of pain into her hand. Why was she going so slowly? If she didn't reach the knife in time, she would die.

Holly lurched forward and almost blacked out. When her vision finally cleared the dagger was gone. The snow and dust blurred again as someone lifted her by the front of her coat and slammed her into the cliff wall.

Damon's hateful eyes were the next thing she was able to focus on. Her reaction was almost instinctive—she lashed out at his face and throat, scratching and clawing in a desperate attempt to push him away.

But Holly knew she was too weak. Damon knew it too, and wasted no time in crushing her hands in one of his and holding her immobile.

"That's all right. I'd be insulted if you didn't try."

He pinned one of her wrists next to her head and raised the knife. The next thing Holly knew was a tearing sensation in her palm, followed by the alarming realization that she couldn't move her left hand.

She was trapped, helpless, cornered. The combined weight of that fact and the pain radiating through her body widened the fracture that had appeared within her mind.

Once again Damon's voice broke through her hazy consciousness. "This is it, Holly. You've lost. Give up."

A cold, numb sensation spread through her body, starting at the pulsing spot on her chest and frosting her skin with ice. The chill drowned out the sound of the wind howling through the chasm and the staccato gasp of her own hyperventilation. Holly could feel herself being pushed further under the icy water, away from consciousness, away from control. Somewhere far off, she could hear someone screaming. Desperately, she reached out towards the surface, but the chill intensified into a sharp pain that shredded through every nerve in her body until she could not differentiate between frost and fire.

And as the searing agony reached its climax, Holly felt something within her twist and snap.

She reached up and wrenched the dagger out of her hand, and remembered no more after that.

…

The snow began falling thick and fast as Bilbo ran, the chaotic white flakes only adding to the buzzing panic he felt.

Perhaps Holly had known that she wouldn't be able to make it out of the fortress alive. And that was why she had been about to tell him…

_Why_ had he not followed her, made sure she was safe?

Damon was going to kill Holly—that is, if she had managed to survive the fall. And he could do nothing but hope he could reach her in time.

There—at the end of the archway was a steep path that he had spotted earlier. Hopefully that would lead him down to the bottom of the chasm.

Too late, Bilbo heard the uneven pounding of footsteps over his own heartbeat. He barely registered the rough gray armor of a group of orcs before something slammed into his temple and ringing pain gave way to a solid, unyielding darkness.

Bilbo wasn't quite conscious enough to feel his head hit the ground.

…..

When Holly came to her senses, the first thing she noticed was the wetness. There was a slimy film of _something_ coating her hands, spattered on her face, dripping into the snow.

Next came the red. Holly couldn't take her eyes off the deep crimson staining the mass before her. It ran in little rivers and beaded in the snow, soaking into her dress where her knees were pressed into the ground.

Blood. A dark line of it stayed branded on the back of her left hand and wept smaller streams down her pale skin. Her other hand was soaked in the liquid and wrapped around the hilt of the dagger. The silvery blade was drowning in more blood that welled up from the flesh she had buried it in.

Flesh that stayed unmoving as Holly noted the multiple stab wounds scattered like corpses in a field across the person's torso—_Damon's_ torso—and there was blood on the snow and she was still holding the knife plunged into his gut and it was all over her face and hands and he wasn't moving, he couldn't move because he was dead, and _she had killed_—

Holly's senses seemed to come in fragments and the next thing she knew she was backed up against the rock face behind her, gasping for air as her vision swam in streams of red and gray and pale blue.

_Killer._

_Coward._

_Monster._

Smaug's voice was everywhere now, reverberating throughout the chasm instead of being confined to her head.

Holly couldn't see the dragon. She couldn't move her head to look around. It was as though his presence was crushing her, sharp claws digging into her shoulders and forcing her down.

_You and I...we were built only to destroy—nothing more. No one is coming to help you now. Give in._

A burst of pain exploded from the spot on her chest, claws ripping and tearing at her skin and muscles and veins as though trying to efface her very existence. Holly doubled over and pressed her forehead against her knees. A low moan of pain burst through clenched teeth. She needed it to stop, needed the pain to just _end—_

_Get up._

Her senses fragmented again. Holly didn't remember squeezing her eyes shut, but now she forced herself to open them as a new voice sounded.

_You have to get up. Come on, there's no dignity in dying like this._

It was her own voice, sounding stern and foreign and strangely welcome. Holly tried to stand, but her body remained immobile.

_Of course you can move. It's your body and your muscles respond when you want them to, so GET. UP._

Another fragment. Holly was kneeling and panting. She pressed both palms into the snow and tried to stand again. The claws in her shoulders dug in deeper. Pain squeezed like a vice around her chest. She fell back to her knees.

"No...no."

Holly wanted so badly to give in. The pain would stop, then. But...really, how could she? After she had almost drowned, after she had learned to apologize for being rude, after she had bought her friend a gift, after she had almost fallen to her death _three separate times_...giving in would mean it had all been for nothing.

Holly grit her teeth and pushed against the claws holding her down. Agony raked across her spine and set fire to her ribs for what seemed like days. Once the white-hot fire cleared from her vision, Holly realized she was standing and almost fell over again.

More fragments—footsteps. Holly stumbled past Damon's corpse and settled into an unsteady rhythm that could barely pass as walking. After a few minutes, or hours, the world began spinning too much and she stopped. When the chasm righted itself a steep path along one wall zig-zagged into view—a way out.

And on the path—a dark blur, a low noise, a tiny glint. The image refocused itself—an orc, the creak of a bowstring, the metal of an arrowhead.

Holly blinked, her mind working at a fraction of its usual pace. By the time she had assembled a simple, _I need to move_, the arrow had already found its target.

**So um uh...crazy weather today, huh? *runs and hides* We have about two more chapters so *ducks from rocks and various projectiles* stay tuned! *crawls into reinforced steel bunker***


	29. The Final Problem

** drwatsonn: *tries to fix it* *fails miserably***

**Chapter 29**

Holly had another nightmare. This time, Smaug was the one making her bleed.

They were at the bottom of the Long Lake. On the surface, Laketown was burning and small streams of blood were trailing down from the wreckage.

Although Holly was underwater, she had no trouble breathing. This fact did nothing to alleviate the wound in her chest, which was weeping blood. A black, oily substance mingled with the dark red liquid oozing between her fingers.

Smaug stared at her, golden eyes analyzing. "You think you have won…" A slow, malicious grin crept onto his face. "Perhaps your dwarves have won this battle, but your war with me is drawing to a close...and you were fated to lose from the beginning."

Holly felt her limbs droop. "You...if I lose, I'm dragging you down with me. I won't stop until you're dead."

"You may not have to wait very long, then." She noticed the cracks in his armor, how the same oily substance leaked through his veins like ink on paper. "And if you manage to claw your way from the brink of death a second time, I will be waiting...and I will return to the world of the living."

"You won't." Holly let out a ragged breath as more blood covered her hands. "I'll kill myself if it destroys you."

Smaug let out a satisfied hum. "There we are. I did say it, didn't I? _I will break you_."

Holly glared at him, her breath becoming labored and unsteady. "Hardly. 'Broken' would imply that I am not functioning properly. But I still have enough functionality left to finish you off."

"And then you will die. What will your friends do without you, I wonder? Your dwarf comrades will cry, no doubt. Your halfling will cry too. And your sister…"

"_Stop_." He was doing it again, trying to sway her decision and rattle her with uncertainty. But this was one decision she could not waver from—the dragon had to die, no matter the cost. It was time for her to...to give up.

Holly released the pressure on the wound in her chest, letting blood flow freely into the water of the lake. Familiar pain sent a lance through her abdomen, and Holly accepted it, allowing her body to curl in on itself.

Smaug let out a low, growling chuckle, but there seemed to be a hollowness in the sound. Above the lake, fire turned to ice and Holly let the cold and the numb and the pain soak into her bones until the water turned murky and black.

…...

She woke to snow on her lashes and a pale sky. Dark shapes swirled and flitted against the white-blue backdrop.

_Eagles. Giant eagles. Am I dead?_

"Holly!"

"I—" Her voice cracked and she coughed, sending a spike of pain through her chest. The smell of sulfur still lingered in the air, as did the crackling tension of a spell about to be released. She could feel the trapped energy swirling through her body. Perhaps Damon's spell hadn't been completed, but she could tell it had been close—far too close.

Another throb of pain caused her to gasp and cough. At the bottom of her peripheral vision, she could make out a black-feathered rod that moved with her erratic breathing. She wrapped her good hand around the shaft and pulled. The arrow came free from her chest and black spots crackled at the edge of her vision as another wave of agony swept through her body.

Holly's vision swam as she dipped back into unconsciousness. When she opened her eyes, a familiar face was hovering over her.

"Holly, what happened?" Bilbo's hands fidgeted just above her body, as though he was afraid to touch her.

"Got shot." Her voice came out slurred and weak.

"You're covered in _blood_."

"Most of it is…" Holly winced. "Ah. Y-You're bleeding too…" A good portion of the side of his head was covered in blood.

"I'm fine." Bilbo shook his head, hands still hovering. "Where did you get shot?"

"Chest." Another wince. "It's n-not as bad as it looks. I think." Holly fumbled with the buttons of her coat. Both her disoriented state and the cold made her fingers numb and clumsy.

"Here." Bilbo helped her unfasten the buttons, then huffed out a little disbelieving laugh. "You...You had chain mail on this whole time?"

Holly managed a smile. "As if I would go into battle unprotected." It had been cumbersome and extremely heavy, but it had ended up saving her life.

"It still hit you, though. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Does my entire body count?" No doubt she was covered in bruises. And there was also the matter of her concussion and the fact that she had brutally murdered someone without any specific memory of doing so. "W-What about...the other army?"

"It's taken care of. Don't worry about it. Just stay still, all right? I'm going to get help." Bilbo made to stand, but Holly latched onto his arm.

"D-Don't leave." If Bilbo left, then Damon might come back and hurt her. And Smaug would come too, and rake his claws over her skin until she bled out and hiss poison into her mind and use her as a marionette to slaughter her friends and she was too weak and too afraid to allow that to happen.

"All right, I—Holly, breathe. I'm not going anywhere. Shh. You're going to be fine."

Another wave of pain sent more black spots swimming in her vision. She was shaking uncontrollably from a mixture of pain and fear and cold, the motion jostling her wound further and eliciting more pain. Holly squeezed her eyes shut.

"Holly? No, no—stay with me. Please, keep your eyes open. You're going to make it. Holly? Stay…"

She was certain he was still speaking to her but it was impossible to discern what he was saying. She was too tired. Perhaps it would be best if she just relaxed…

…..

The next thing Holly knew was deafening quiet. Her hand was still covered in blood, but the pain in her abdomen had subsided to a numbness that managed to scare her even more. She let out a rasping cough.

"Bilbo?" Another cough. Where was she? A lingering chill clung to her limbs, but the sound of the wind had disappeared. Her knuckles brushed against something soft and pliable.

Gathering enough strength to open her eyes, Holly blinked against white light and waited for her vision to adjust. Smooth yellow stone provided a soothing contrast to the brightness emanating somewhere off to the side.

_It's the ceiling. I'm...in a bed somewhere and the light is a candle—no, sunlight._ Holly felt a dull blow of disappointment at the drastic decrease in her observational skills.

Lifting her left hand, Holly found bandages and a splint. Her delirious calm vanished once she realized that she couldn't move her middle finger or her ring finger. Several attempts proved fruitless, and left her just as confused and helpless as...as…

The memory of what had happened in the chasm swept a wave of panic through her. Holly struggled to sit up, to stand up so she could get away. Little twinges of discomfort needled her chest. The door was on the other side of the room. Damon was fast, so she would need to run for it.

No sooner had she made this plan than the door opened (a weapon, she needed a _weapon_) and Holly stiffened. She couldn't do it, not another confrontation—

Bilbo walked into the room, eyebrows raising in mingled relief and concern as he caught sight of her. Holly relaxed and laid back, inwardly chastising herself. Damon was dead. She had no reason to be so terrified.

"You're awake, thank goodness," Bilbo said, striding across the room. "I was so worried when you passed out, and the healers said you were going to be fine, but I wasn't quite sure…" He trailed off and frowned. "Are you all right? Besides getting shot, I mean."

"I'm alive, at the very least. But I feel...numb. Medicine?"

Bilbo nodded. "You, um...you were struggling in your sleep, so the healers gave you something."

Holly didn't remember having any sort of nightmare after she had lost consciousness. What she would have been struggling against was beyond her. Her eyes flickered to the bandage on Bilbo's head. "How's your head? Did you get hit?"

"I'm all patched up now. You needn't worry about me." Bilbo lifted one hand to brush her arm, and that was when Holly realized how thin the fabric of her sleeve was.

"Where's my coat?" She was only wearing her dress, and a quick glance around the small room confirmed that her coat was nowhere in sight.

Bilbo shrugged. "They must have gotten rid of it. It was all covered in blood, anyway. We'll get you a new one soon."

Holly had never told him where she'd gotten the coat in the first place. It was stupid, to attach sentiment to inanimate objects, but she felt a familiar pang at the loss anyway, like the twinge of an old wound.

Somewhere outside the building, a crash sounded and Holly jumped. Such a reaction had become almost unconscious by now and she didn't even notice until Bilbo said, "You don't have to worry about him anymore. You know..."

Holly knew that already. She nodded and gave a noncommittal hum.

"Someone found him dead at the bottom of that chasm. They said an orc must have killed him."

An orc. It was an entirely plausible theory, but Holly noticed the way he was watching her carefully. It couldn't have slipped his notice, how she had been covered in far too much blood for a simple arrow wound.

But all she said was, "Orcs are vicious creatures."

_Vicious...you would know, wouldn't you?_

Holly clenched her right fist, making it sting. She looked down and noticed blood leaking through her fingers.

"What happened here?" Bilbo took her hand in his.

Holly could feel something sharp biting into her skin. Her fingers felt cramped and stiff and she wondered how long they had been like that. "I don't know. Perhaps something scraped my palm. I can't...I can't open my hand."

"I'll get something to clean it off. I'll only be gone a few minutes." Bilbo dropped a light kiss to her forehead and headed for the door.

Holly waited until he was gone, then pried open her fingers and stared at the object in her hand. The arrowhead had made two cuts in her skin, one across her fingers and another on her palm. She held it up to the light, studying the fresh blood along the edges and the dried blood under it, from where it had struck her chest.

And it was with a slow, buzzing dread that she recognized the viscous black substance that mingled with her blood on the arrow.

She should have realized sooner, really, that she'd been hit with a generous dose of Morgul venom.

…..

Most of the dead bodies were gone from the streets. The elves had taken their dead and returned to Mirkwood soon after the battle had ended, leaving the men of Dale to clear the rubble from their broken city. The midday sun left a blinding glare on the snowdrifts and stripes of black and red painted the worn stone of the streets.

Bilbo winced as the side of his head gave a nasty twinge. Someone had bandaged it for him but a dull aching sensation still pounded in his right temple where he'd been hit.

As soon as the world righted itself again, Bilbo continued down the street, looking for the building where all the medical supplies were stored.

Watching Holly fall from the bridge had been terrifying. Seeing her lying bloodied with an arrow in her chest had been worse. But what had scared him the most was the look in her eyes when he had walked into the room. Her entire body had tensed up and her eyes had widened in the sort of desperate panic he'd thought only belonged to cornered wild animals. Whatever had happened up in Ravenhill seemed to have taken something away from her.

A panicked scream broke him from his thoughts with a start. Around the corner, more shouts broke out.

Heart pounding, Bilbo moved towards the noise, hand going automatically to his sword (when had that become a habit?). A crowd of armed men had begun to grow in the center of the street, but even their height could not conceal the massive form of a great furry beast. It let out a low growl but made no move to attack.

_Beorn_?

Bilbo's gaze traveled upwards to a smaller form resting on the beast's broad back. A river of blood ran down one black-furred shoulder. Then he recognized the mane of dark hair streaked with silver and felt his heartbeat falter.

_Not him, too._

Fili and Kili pushed their way through the crowd, calling out to their uncle. At the same time, Dwalin burst in from the other direction. Although Kili's arm was in a sling, he helped Dwalin lift Thorin down from Beorn's back while Fili shouted for a healer.

Bilbo trailed behind them, feeling smaller than ever as they made their way towards the healing tents, Kili and Dwalin supporting their barely-conscious king while Fili ushered people out of the way.

The healer made them wait outside. Dwalin cursed the man once he went back inside. Bilbo sat with the three dwarves, listening to them talk but not really hearing what they were saying.

"I thought he was with you."

"We left you and Thorin to scout out the lower towers! How were we to know that you split up?"

Fili broke in, diffusing the tension between the other two. "No one is to blame here. Thorin made the choice to fight Azog on his own. We can only hope...we can only hope he lives to see the victory he has earned us."

"He will live." Kili's tone burned with a youthful passion and optimism that seemed foreign in the face of such desolation. "He has to."

The four of them fell into a fidgety silence. Fili scratched at the red-stained bandage on one arm. Dwalin began pacing. Bilbo closed his eyes as his head started to pound again.

When the healer finally let them in, Bilbo hung back to give Thorin a moment with his kin. He wasn't sure what he would say to him when he did get the chance to speak. Beside their brief encounter in Ravenhill, the last time Bilbo had seen Thorin, the dwarf had been trying to throw him off a wall.

Bilbo looked up and realized that Kili had stepped aside and Thorin was staring right at him from where he lay on the makeshift cot, pinning him under his ice-blue gaze.

"Um." He swallowed hard, clenching and unclenching his fingers.

Thorin turned his gaze back to the others. "Give us a moment."

Dwalin shot Bilbo a significant look as the three dwarves filed out of the tent. He barely had time to ponder the meaning of such a look before Thorin addressed him.

"I would take back my words and my deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do." Thorin paused and winced. "I...I was too blind to see. I'm so sorry that I have led you into such peril."

Bilbo finally found his voice as he stepped closer. "No, no, I'm glad to have shared in all your perils, Thorin—each and every one of them. I...you've done a great deal for me, letting me come with you. And I forgive you. Of course I forgive you."

At those few words, Thorin seemed to relax, some of the pain leaving his sturdy frame. "Thank you...Bilbo."

Bilbo blinked. He could count on one hand the number of times Thorin had called him by his name instead of 'burglar' or 'Master Baggins'.

Thorin winced and let out another cough. A spot of red seeped into the bandages on his shoulder.

After a moment of hesitation, Bilbo laid his hand on Thorin's arm. "You should rest. I'll come back to check on you later." He needed to get back to Holly.

Thorin nodded, his composure faltering for half a second as a flash of pain passed over his face, and then his impassive gaze returned.

Feeling shaken yet relieved, Bilbo left the tent and headed for the house (if you could call it that—one of the walls had been reduced to rubble) where all the medical supplies were stored. He grabbed a rag and a small flask of water and hurried back to Holly's tent.

"Sorry that took so long, Thorin came back badly hurt and—" Bilbo stopped short in the doorway. "Holly?"

Her cot was empty, and there was no sign of her anywhere else in the room. And Bilbo could only stand there, wondering why she had run away this time.

…

Holly hadn't run very far—she stood on the upper levels of Dale, watching the surviving soldiers line up those who had fallen in battle.

They'd run out of sheets to cover the bodies with, and she could see dozens of slack, pale faces all in a row, one after the other. How long before she was just another bloodless face among the rest?

Holly turned the arrowhead over with her relatively uninjured hand. The cuts on her palm and fingers stung and bled.

She didn't want medicine. She didn't want to stop bleeding. Everything that happened that day had led up to this moment, and all she had to do was wait.

Her actions had caused everything to crumble. Bilbo had almost died, Thorin had been on the brink of turning mad forever, and her utter _foolishness_ had nearly set a dragon loose on Middle Earth.

And Damon...Holly shivered, her left hand twitching. She had wanted him dead, but the way she had gone about it terrified her. Specks of blood flickered across the surface of her skin. She had lost her sanity in that moment. Perhaps that was what he had wanted in the end.

And without her sanity, what was keeping her from turning on her friends?

Holly winced and doubled over as a burning sensation flared in her chest. Instead of fading, it branched out through her veins, leaving a ruthless trail of fire throughout her body. She gasped, her hand closing over the arrowhead and eliciting more drops of blood. How had Kili been able to endure this?

Holly opened her eyes. Somehow she had ended up on the ground. She let out a soft curse.

_Pathetic._

"Holly, what on Earth are you doing up here?"

She grit her teeth and straightened back up, though she decided against trying to stand again. It took enough effort just to lean against the wall. "Just enjoying the view." Her voice came out hoarse and uneven.

It took far too much effort to make eye contact with the wizard standing a few feet away. Holly received a stern tilt of the head in response. "Bilbo is looking for you."

"I figured." Despite her attempts to keep her voice steady, Holly felt tremors rake up her throat. Bilbo was looking for her. But she couldn't possibly tell him what she had to do. After all that he had been through…

But either way she would disappear from his life. Holly clenched her fist and watched the creases in her skin fill with blood. Either way she would end up hurting him.

"You are hiding something," Gandalf said.

"I'm dying." No need to beat around the bush with the wizard. He had to have seen enough death for hers not to bother him too much. "I was shot with an arrow and dosed with Morgul venom. I'm assuming I have until sunset before the poison incapacitates me completely."

At her words, Gandalf's expression softened. "And you haven't told Bilbo?"

"Of course not. He'd probably do something foolishly optimistic like...like try to help me." Holly felt as though she was bleeding out. "Will you tell him? When I'm gone?"

"You will tell him what happened yourself. We will find someone to heal you."

Holly let out a mirthless laugh. "You think I haven't thought of that? If I don't die, Smaug _will_ make a return to Middle Earth. Damon tried to reanimate Smaug's soul using my body. I managed to kill him but that only delayed the inevitable. Now I have a half-finished spell sitting in my chest that may or may not result in the destruction of everyone I care about. I-I have to die to protect them."

It was so final, to say it out loud. For so long she had been obsessed with protecting herself even if it meant causing others pain. Now she was focused on the opposite.

Gandalf inclined his head. "Then you will be remembered as a hero."

Holly scoffed, the motion feeling strangely familiar and comforting. "Don't make people into heroes, Gandalf. Heroes don't exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them. I'm not doing this for the people in Dale or anyone else except my friends." Pain sparked all the way down to her fingertips as she stood up. "Please tell him for me."

And before her resolve could dwindle again, Holly gathered her strength and began walking. She had one last journey to make before she could stop.

…

The waters of the Long Lake had been cleared of its ash and debris. Holly could see now, through the crumbling remnants of Laketown, the slumping corpse of the dragon.

She took a seat on the snow-patched grass flattened by hundreds of panicked footsteps and placed the arrowhead on the ground in front of her, the tip facing the water.

_I'm coming, da._

The walk down to the lake was painful and tiring. The poison had begun to eat away at her insides, leaving raw gaping holes in her veins and her muscles.

Holly watched the wind ruffle the surface of the water. The sun was setting across the lake, casting a long dark shadow behind her body. She was parchment in a flame, a black-edged hole appearing and expanding from her chest and crumbling the ashes left behind.

An hour passed. Another bout of agony roared and crackled to life.

She thought of Bilbo and the dwarves. She loved them all, and despised the thought of hurting them with her loss, but it was better than causing damage for the rest of her life. After this, they would be safe.

Her sister would have scoffed and told her to find another way to fix this. Perhaps she could have found another way, if she had consulted another wizard, or one of the elves—but it was too late, and she couldn't turn back now.

Holly turned her head and looked at the Lonely Mountain. A sudden urge to cry out flared within her. Perhaps someone would hear. Then she turned back and closed her eyes. A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, followed by a low, soft wind and another, stranger sound, like whispers just beyond her reach. Holly felt snowflakes on her fingertips, and raised her face to the last kind rays of the sun.


	30. Bad End

**Warning: it's still sad**

**Two Weeks Later**

It was snowing again. There were flakes caught in his hair and melting on the sleeves of his coat. Bilbo dodged a wagon full of rubble and passed through an archway that led into one of the narrower streets of Dale. Even after staying there but a few weeks, he had familiarized himself with the layout of the city and its shortcuts. He had needed to, after being assigned the job of messenger to help with the reconstruction efforts.

A man carrying a stack of wood bumped into him, and Bilbo felt an automatic apology fly past his lips, even though he hadn't been the one at fault. He didn't really blame the man, though—none of the workers in Dale would be looking out for someone half their size wandering alone through the streets.

Bilbo stopped by a half-filled hole in the outer wall, where Bard and five more men were sorting through the rubble and putting the usable pieces back where they belonged. A memory accompanied by a pang brought back the image of a different wall of rubble, made of dark gray and green stone, the top of it _so high up_—

Bard turned and waved as he stepped down from the wall. "You have swift feet, Master Baggins. What did Gerrick say?"

"He can't spare any more stone," Bilbo replied. "But another wagon should be arriving from Erebor soon."

Bard nodded. "We can wait until then." He seemed to be considering something, then said, "Take the rest of the day off. We'll handle the rest for now."

"Are you sure?" Bilbo asked more out of courtesy than anything else. He felt tired.

"Of course. We appreciate your help." Bard hesitated again, then reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, black leather-bound book. He offered it to Bilbo. "Here. I found this in one of the libraries, and it wasn't damaged too badly. I thought I would give it to you, since...since Holly…" He straightened the arm holding the book. "It will help."

"Right." Bilbo forced down the lump in his throat as he accepted the book. "Thank you. Thanks." It was only when Bard cleared his throat that the hobbit realized that he'd drifted off. "I...thank you," he said for the third time.

As Bilbo set off down the street once more, the snow began falling harder and faster. The white flakes flew every which way, caught up in a stubborn wind. He gripped the book against his chest, then slipped it into his coat pocket as though the bundle of leather and paper would ward off the biting chill.

….

The door opened and a gust of cold air swept a burst of snow across the room. Bilbo walked into the silent room and closed the door behind him.

"You're back early."

Holly watched him from her seat at the kitchen table, right hand clasped around a mug of tea. Her eyes were half-clouded with thought and watched him with a careful neutrality.

"Bard gave me the rest of the day off." Bilbo walked over to the table and snuck a glance at her mug. Full, and cold. It was going to be one of those days, then. "I have something for you." He placed the book on the table.

Holly used her fingertips to slide the book across the wood. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Bilbo took a seat across from her and they fell into an empty silence. Everything they said to each other had become flat and formal. It was as though they had traveled back in time to seven months ago, back when they had been strangers. Though back then Holly had at least had a bit of life in her. The dull eyes drifting around the room were nothing like what they had been in Bag End.

"Look, I…" Bilbo paused a moment to gather his composure. "I know it's only been a couple of weeks since...since the battle." It had been a couple weeks for him, at least. Holly had only regained consciousness a week ago. "But you should try and talk about what happened. Or write it down. At least...at least a little bit." Perhaps that would help. There had to be _something_ that would help her.

Holly's left hand twitched. Her gaze flickered to the journal, then back to the wall. A full minute passed. "I...I don't know."

"You don't have to write a lot," Bilbo said. "I know this must be hard for you, I just…"

Holly shook her head. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed." She stood and paused a moment to steady herself, then made for the door at the back of the room.

Holly had made this into a habit by now. She was either staring into space or sleeping, and Bilbo couldn't seem to talk her out of it. He stood and followed her. "Holly."

She stopped, the fingertips of one hand resting on the doorknob.

He reached out to her, hands resting on her upper arms. "I'm here. All right?"

Holly reached out for him as well. Her uninjured hand brushed against his arm, but she pulled back a second later, as though she were afraid to touch him. She stepped out of his grasp and opened the door. The only thing that broke the silence between them was the _click_ of the door shutting.

Bilbo went back into the front room and picked up the journal, thumbing through it. Blank page after blank page flicked past, like each of the days since the battle. There was too much left unsaid, too many questions left unanswered. Perhaps one day they would all come out all right on the other side, but that possibility seemed to be miles away.

A distant memory came to him, a mixture of shrouded sunset and the giddy exhaustion of fading adrenaline.

_I think everyone deserves a second chance._

Holly had certainly gotten her second chance, but it had come at a far greater price than either of them could have imagined. And what bitter irony that the cause of all of her suffering had been the thing to save her in the end.

Gandalf had explained it all—the poison, the dragon, and Holly's decision...her decision to leave without saying goodbye. Had she known that the dragon blood in her veins would be able to counteract the poison? Even if she had, it wouldn't have made a difference. She'd spent a week on the brink of death, barely breathing and oblivious to the cold and his barely-audible prayers.

It was a little better now. At the very least she was breathing normally.

Bilbo set the journal back on the table and looked out the window.

The snow swirled outside, pouring grief and cold into the crumbled city.

**And there we have it! I feel like this has a lot ****of potential for a sequel so I'll probably start writing that soon (maybe I'll actually plan this one out haha). When I get a couple chapters done I'll post a part of the first one here in case you guys don't want to subscribe to me as an author. Anyways, let me know what you think of this and I will see you in part two of this journey :)**


	31. THE SEQUEL IS FINALLY PUBLISHED

**Chapter 1**

_I believe I'm lucid now so I might as well get my thoughts out while I can. I have to leave Dale. Staying will only make things worse for the both of us, as I'm sure you already know. I don't think I have time to elaborate on that. So I will conclude this note with an apology for leaving. And I want you to forget about what happened, or at least ignore it. I won't come back. Goodbye. I'm sorry._

_Holly_

The crumpled note had been in her pocket for six months now. She'd forgotten to give it to Bilbo—or perhaps she hadn't wanted to. Her memories surrounding the battle tended to blur, so it was hard to sort through what had happened, and what she had dreamed, and what she had hallucinated...

Holly kept her head down, trying to stay on the edge of the crowded road. She'd come back to find a steady stream of travelers—men heading for Dale and dwarves heading for Erebor. Perhaps they sought to help rebuild the cities, though it was more likely they were after the piles of gold in the mountain.

Holly hadn't meant to come back. She'd wanted to stay out in the Wilds. Yet the road stretched out before her feet, and already she felt the urge to make her way up the hills to where Dale stood.

She _felt_. That was a change, if nothing else.

Perhaps it was just the infectious whispers of excitement running through the crowd. They all seemed so hopeful, even if their hopes were focused on precious metals.

Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. Holly spun and took several steps back. An elderly woman looked down at her. As soon as she caught sight of Holly's face, her friendly smile faltered. It had been quite a while since Holly had last seen her reflection, but she had no doubt that there were shadows ringing her eyes, and she could feel the smudges of dirt painted on her too-prominent cheekbones. Hardly characteristics one would expect on the face of a child, which the old woman had probably mistaken her for.

"Are you lost, dear? Where are your parents?"

_So predictable._ "My parents are dead. And I'm not a child." Holly almost said _I'm not lost_, but that was irrelevant.

People usually left after she said that, but the old woman kept pace with her. "I'm very sorry to hear that. Are you alone?"

Holly felt the muscles in her face tighten. She knew the woman was showing concern, but the words sounded like a threat. "I'm meeting with a few friends in Dale. They should be expecting me later today. You know how impatient dwarves can get," she replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. The statement seemed sufficient enough to warn away any potential threats, even if it wasn't true.

"I'm not sure anyone truly knows anything about dwarves," the woman said, returning the smile. "Well, if you ever need anything, I'll be staying with a friend on Glen Street, near the market."

Holly paused. "Which house?"

"Number three, I believe."

That was the house she and Bilbo had stayed in after the battle. He must have moved somewhere else after she'd left.

Holly wrapped her arms around herself, although the air was warm and heavy as it tended to be in late May. He might have gone back to the Shire, for all she knew.

If he was really gone...what would she do then? Following him meant attempting a six month journey that she knew she wouldn't be able to complete. She couldn't stay here alone. Perhaps she could look for the Company, but why would they want to see her again after what she had done? There was nothing left for her here.

Finding Bilbo was her only option. Something like fear spiked in her heart.

"Do you think I could come with you, back to your house?" Holly asked. "I just want to get my bearings, and then I'll be on my way."

"Of course, dear," the old woman said. It wasn't as though she would refuse. In her eyes, Holly was little more than a lost little girl.

**Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me? ****I'm back! I wanted to get this published last month, but it didn't work out. **

**IMPORTANT: This is only a segment of the first chapter. ****The rest of it is on my profile under a new story. If you're going to leave a review, do it on there, please! And thank you to everyone who's deciding to continue this journey with me!**


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